The Other Malfoy
by borderfame-sabrestar
Summary: It's two years after the War and George Weasley is forcing himself to start his life over. But the memories won't leave him alone and he is haunted by the face of a girl he doesn't know. M for language/themes. GW and OC.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys. So I know I just started another Code Geass fanfic, but I found this old one on my laptop and thought I'd give it a run for it's money. It's holidays soon (cause I'm in Australia) and I get nine weeks off (cause I don't have to go back to school after exams) and I'll get everything finished. Promise :)

Hope you like if you're a Harry Potter fan, hope you like if you don't. It's my own spin on the story. And the disclaimer thing, all of the everything in this whatever belongs to whatsername JK Rowling, who I love dearly (but I wish I'd thought of it first.)

Without further ado, here is your first chapter of The Other Malfoy.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter One  
_

It was such a small moment in time, he had almost forgotten it had happened.

It was the middle of the battle, spells flying back and forth across the corridor, and George threw himself against the wall as a wayward curse almost hit him. Sweat was running down his forehead, dripping from the end of his pointed nose. He was so tired, every part of him was aching and he was so exhausted, he was sure he would collapse to the floor at any moment.

He flicked back the hair from his face and quickly threw a shield in front of a spell headed towards Ginny, who shot one straight back at her attacker without a second thought, not even waiting to watch him collapse as the spell hit him square in the chest. George ran beside his sister, knowing Fred was up ahead with Percy.

George flicked his wand to block another curse, and swore under his breath as his own spell missed the target. Some of these Death Eaters were bloody fast.

A sudden explosion threw both George and Ginny to the floor, and George hurried to his feet, helping his sister up as they turned to the enormous hole in the castle's wall. Clearing the dust cloud with a flourish of his wand, George could see someone in the middle of the pile of bricks and debris, face down and trembling as she tried to lift herself from the ground.

George ran over, and grasped onto the girl's arm, helping her to her feet. She was coughing, shaking, and he held her close as he dragged her away. He sat her against the wall, and she hung her head, her platinum blonde hair falling across her face which was dirty with sweat and grime. George lifted her chin with his long-fingered hand, and he stared at her hooded eyes, and her exhausted, dirty face. She coughed and spluttered, and she was still shaking.

When she finally focused her eyes and saw George, they became wide and she struggled. George held her still and said, "Shh, stop. It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

The girl whimpered and tears ran from her eyes, and Ginny said, standing in front of them as a guard, "George, we have to move."

George nodded, and turned back to the girl. "Come on. Come with me."

Lifting the girl to her feet once more, George held her up and dragged her beside him as she struggled to keep up with his long strides. She clung to his shirt with white-knuckled hands as they walked.

George turned the corner, and he saw Fred and Percy fighting, throwing spells at their opponents, Fred smiling as they shared a joke.

It was only a flash of green light later than he fell to the floor, dead.

And George let go of the girl and ran over to his brother, screaming, and there was nothing else.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two of the buried, dug up, killed, cremated, thrown to sea and collected again story. It could go anywhere so don't get too excited.

Here goes nothing.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Two_

George was leaning with his face in his hand, playing with an empty vial on the messy desk. Dark blotches and burn marks from various experiments covered the wooden surface, and papers with scribbled notes were laid out in a mess over the tattered exterior of the desk. He heard the door open, and a small sigh sounded before Verity lit the lamps with a spell.

"George, you can't just sit and do nothing for hours," she said, walking over to the desk and beginning to clear up his mess. "It's not healthy."

"Don't touch that," George snapped, throwing out his arm to push Verity away. A moment later, he looked up at her, and saw her angry expression and her shimmering eyes. He'd hurt her feelings.

George sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Verity. I'm so tired. I didn't mean to."

Verity threw down the papers she'd began to clear up and she said in a voice trembling with anger, "George Weasley, if you don't stop wallowing in your own misery, I'm going to quit this job and then you won't have anybody to help you."

George flinched as Verity snarled at him, and she sighed. "I'm sorry for what happened, George," she said, a little less angrily, "But you can't do this to yourself."

George pushed back the hair from his face, and he said, "You're right."

He stood, and he crushed Verity in hug which took her by surprise, and she let out a small squeak. "Lemme go!" she said, her words muffled, and George smiled a little.

"Thanks, Verity," he said. "You can shut the shop a little earlier if you like. It's Sunday, after all."

Verity grinned at him and went back out to shut up the shop. George grabbed his coat and scarf from the wall and said he was going for a walk.

"But George, it's freezing out there," Verity said.

"It's okay," he said. "I feel like walking."

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay. Seeya."

George pulled his coat tight around him, shoving his hands into his pockets. He really did love winter, and snow. He and Fred used to love setting snow traps and enchanting snowmen to chase around their siblings, or any other innocent passerby. George smiled privately, and as he walked, he kicked up the snow. It wasn't so bad, he thought.

As he stared at the snow by his feet, a piece of parchment flew into his leg, and he stood on it to stop it. Bending down to pick it up, he saw a young girl's face in the centre of what appeared to be a missing poster. She had big grey eyes and silvery blonde hair, high set cheekbones and snow white skin. Long eyelashes blinked at him from the photograph, and George couldn't help but think he'd seen her somewhere before.

The name below the image said _Aurelia Luciana Malfoy_.

"Malfoy?" George muttered, before he heard muffled footsteps coming towards him through the snow. He lifted his eyes and found himself looking at Narcissa Malfoy.

She looked terrible. Her dark eyes had huge rings beneath them, and her gentle face was etched with lines of worry and exhaustion. Her hair was not as silky smooth as he remembered it being. Her hands were shaking from the cold.

"Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy," George said politely.

"Good evening," she replied with almost a smile. "I'm sorry you had to pick that up."

George stared at the parchment. "Oh, this?" he said. "That's no bother. Did you want help putting them up?"

Slightly taken aback, Narcissa did not reply for a moment, and then Draco's voice carried down the laneway.

"Mother, I thought I'd lost you," Draco said calmly, as he strode towards them. He glanced at George, and cleared his throat before saying, "Hello, George."

His new found politeness never failed to surprise George. "Hello, Draco," George replied, reminding himself to use his given name and not call him Malfoy like he had done for so many years.

Turning back to Narcissa, George asked again, "Did you want a hand with those?"

"Oh, no, thank you," Narcissa stammered, "I'll be fine."

Draco looked at her, and after a small pause he said, "Mother, I'm sure if George wants to help it won't be a problem. We have to get home. Astoria will be waiting." Draco looked up to George and said, "As long as it's not a problem, of course?"

George shook his head. "Not at all. Happy to help."

Narcissa smiled gratefully as she handed George a small pile of flyers. "Thank you, George," she murmured, before reaching up to kiss his cheek.

George was even more taken aback by this, but he overcame his shock and smiled, "It's quite alright, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa nodded, before she squeezed George's hand and disapparated. Draco stared at the space where his mother had just been, then turned to George. He said nothing for a moment.

"Who is this?" George asked, holding up one of the flyers.

Draco flinched as though he'd been slapped, and he said in a strained voice, "She's my sister."

George frowned. Draco's sister? He didn't even know that she had one. "I never knew you had a sister," he said. "I – I really hope I can help to find her."

Draco turned around as though to check if anybody were listening, but they were the only two in the laneway. He turned back and said hurriedly, "We haven't seen her since the battle. She hasn't been reported dead, and we've been trying to find her for two years."

George didn't know what to say, before a memory from the battle flashed through his head, and he said suddenly, "I remember seeing her at the battle."

Draco blinked in surprise.

"I do remember her," George went on. "I was helping her get away when –"

"What?" Draco asked, gripping onto George's sleeve. "What happened?"

George glanced down at his hand, and he shook his head. "Nothing happened, Draco. She was there when – when Fred died. I went to my brother, and I don't know where she went after that."

Draco stared into blank space before he remembered he had to be somewhere. He let go of George's sleeve and said before disapparating, "We need to find her – before they do."

And he left George standing in a cloud of confusion, with only Aurelia's face looking up at him almost expectantly. George raised an eyebrow at her and said, "Well, don't look at me like that. I don't know where you are."

Though he wished he did.


	3. Chapter 3

Still busy editing this one for your reading purposes. I'll eventually run out of story and have to start writing again, but my last exam is tomorrow. Yay! :D Rejoice. I'll get back into the swing of things then. For now, enjoy some well-deserved Weasley man-candy. I do so love George Weasley.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Three_

George was cleaning up his room, as his mother had dropped by earlier and she had been extremely disappointed at the state of his bedroom. Mrs. Weasley was one of the few who could actually apparated into George's apartment – most others were shifted to the shop downstairs or outside if it was past retail hours. Running a famous joke shop had its downsides – like people apparating into the shop after hours when they were in a hurry to get out of nasty situations. It had happened before – one lovely gentleman had appeared in the shop in his underwear, apologising for being there so early in the morning and so badly dressed, but he had been trying to avoid being caught cheating by his girlfriend and their shop had seemed the appropriate place at the time.

Fortunately enough for him, Fred simply gave him some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and told him it worked much better, and if he ever needed their assistance again could he kindly ring the doorbell first, and/or put some trousers on.

George had laughed for quite a while afterwards. He smiled at the memory. Fred had been such an understanding person.

George stared at his room, flicking his wand at the pile of clothes in the corner which threw themselves back into his wardrobe, and he'd worry about cleaning them later – you know, when he had to wear them.

He had to thank his mother – unless she had mentioned it, he wouldn't have cleaned his room. And that would have been awkward if he'd brought a girl home that night. George was going out on the town tonight, with his dear friend Oliver Wood. They'd decided it had been long enough since either one of them had been with a lovely lady and that had to change. They were taking a walk down Diagon Alley on Friday night, when it was casual night out at all the wizarding pubs and clubs.

George still liked to dress himself up a bit, regardless of whether he was wearing his robes or his casual gear. Tonight he had decided on black trousers, a light brown shirt and dark green jacket. Casual meant not wearing a tie, so he left the top button undone, and left his cufflinks off the shirt. He was wearing a dragon skin belt given to him by Charlie last Christmas, and his boots were nothing especially fancy, but he'd shone them earlier using a nifty spell Hermione had taught him. Hermione was full of good ideas.

Brushing back the hair from his face and thinking that he might need a haircut sometime soon, George brushed himself down and he heard a crack downstairs as somebody apparated into the shop.

"Hello, Georgie?" Oliver's deep voice called.

"Be there in a tick, Oliver," George yelled back, as he slipped his wand and his wallet into the inside pocket of his coat. He glanced at himself one more time in the mirror, practicing his signature wink before he grinned and went downstairs.

"Oliver!" George said joyously as he greeted his friend with a hug. George was taller than Oliver now, but Oliver was still looking good. His dark brown hair was brushed back from his face, his heavy eyebrows hovering over big brown eyes and thick eyelashes. The ladies loved Oliver's eyelashes.

Oliver was wearing black trousers as well, but he was wearing a deep red shirt, black jacket and a grey scarf. He grinned at George, and said, "You look great, George."

"Same goes for you, Mr. Wood," George said with a smile.

"How have you been doing?" Oliver asked. "You look – you look so much better."

George's smile faded slightly but only for a second. _Stay happy. Keep smiling._ "I'm much better, Oliver. I've – I've been making myself go out, been working hard. I'm doing well."

Oliver smiled again, and he said, "Good for you, George. You deserve it." He glanced at his pocket watch, and said, "Come on, George, we have to get out before all the pretty girls get taken."

George followed Oliver out the door, walking along the snowy street with his hands in his pockets. It was much busier than it had been a few weeks ago, but the snow had only become heavier. Early January was a good time for snow.

George had been working hard lately, due to Christmas and New Years. Everybody loved giving Skiving Snackboxes and cursed chocolates out on Christmas and the fireworks were always a hit for New Years. George had asked Hermione and Ron to help him gift pack everything, though after a few nasty ribbon incidents Ron had been asked to go help out at the desk while Verity finished up the wrapping.

Now it was the first week of January and it was perfect weather for pretty girls, as Oliver said cheerily as they walked along. "Getting a girl when it's cold is better," he said, almost intellectually. "It's easier to give a girl a nice cuddle when she's cold."

"Always the gentleman, Oliver."

"I do my best."

As they walked down Diagon Alley, Oliver pointed at the Leaky Cauldron. "Like to try your luck in there?"he asked George with a cheeky grin.

"Yeah, when I'd like to find myself a girlfriend with no teeth I'll let you know."

They kept on walking down past Gringott's, glancing at a restaurant on the corner block – it was called the Blue Unicorn. George raised an eyebrow in question, but Oliver shook his head. "Girls in there are too old. I'd rather go out with their granddaughters."

"But they do make a wicked vanilla cheesecake."

"Stay on target, Weasley."

They wandered a little further down and noticed a crowd mingling around a small alley just to the left of the menagerie – it was a small mingling of younger looking witches and wizards.

"Didn't know there was a wizard club around here," Oliver said.

"I think it opened on New Years. Big old party went on down here. I was at Bill and Fleur's place on New Years, though." George glanced at his friend. "Wanna check it out?"

Oliver shrugged. "Can't hurt to take a peek. It's gotta be better than a pub, in any case."

George couldn't agree more.


	4. Chapter 4

I actually have no idea where this story was actually going, and I don't think I knew when I was writing it either. It's just a bit weird.

I should seriously edit these parts, but trust me. There is actual plot line. Soon. When I get time.

Ignore all my pointless OCs.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Four_

They walked towards the club, and an ornate floating sign above the door told them where they were – the Atlantis.

"Atlantis, as in the Lost City Of?" Oliver said with a small smile. "Sounds promising."

"Sounds weird," George muttered back.

They wandered through the small crowd, and George got a few looks from the witches and wizards around him. He was a little bit of a celebrity around Diagon Alley these days, what with Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes doing so well. He flashed a brief smile before walking up to the door.

Walking through the door, George noticed a small age line floating just above the floor. So the people outside were underage, he noted. It wasn't an all ages place. That always made things better. There was nothing worse than dancing with a pretty girl, buying her a drink then hearing her let slip that she was in fact only sixteen.

It had happened before. And Fred couldn't make fun of him enough.

Oliver followed George through the door, and they looked around. It was dim, but it wasn't too dark. It wasn't that late yet, though, and they'd probably turn the lights lower later on in the night. It was very flash and fancy, everything looked quite fashionable, both the furniture and the people. George felt slightly underdressed as he glanced at all the fancy vests and dresses brushing past him, even if it was casual Friday.

Oliver brushed down his coat, and he said, "Well George, are you prepared?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," George replied, but Oliver wasn't listening. He was already wandering through the crowd, seemingly casual but George knew he had a very keen eye. All those years of being keeper had done him well.

George leaned against the counter of the bar, and he looked around. There were many good looking girls, but a lot of them already had somebody standing next to them. There were some large groups of girls but George was on the lookout for somebody independent. He didn't want to have to charm more than one girl at once, and when you try to catch a girl in a large group you usually end up having to chat up the entire group. And then it's just havoc.

George rubbed his eyes, and he ran a hand through his hair. He figured he'd just wait it out. Patience was the key.

He had tried to keep a relationship going, but since he'd lost Fred, all hopes of steady relationships had faded. Fred was his wing man, Fred was the one he went to for advice. George didn't want to have to try to love someone. He just wanted it to happen. Fred always knew what was good for him, and he always knew how to make things work. George felt so lost without him and he usually ended up losing whoever it was he had found.

He sighed, and tried to stop thinking about Fred so much. He was here to have fun. He was here to get a bit drunk and dance with pretty girls. Fred would have wanted him to throw a sly wink and have them all lining up at the door.

_You'll have to beat them off with a stick._

George started, blinking, and looking around before he calmed himself, his accelerated heartbeat making his hands shake. He couldn't stop hearing Fred's voice. It had been two years and he regularly heard Fred's voice echoing in his mind, a voice that laughed and teased him whenever he was being an idiot, whenever he was thinking hard about something, throwing useless advice his way.

There was a part of him that would never leave.

George noticed through his unfocused eyes that somebody was approaching him. He refocused, and he instantly smiled, as a knee-jerk reaction. It was girl.

She had short dark hair, a small round nose and a heart shaped face. Her eyes were electric blue and she had a small dusting of freckles on her cheeks, her ochre skin not smothered in makeup. She wore a plain blue dress and brown stockings, brown leather lace up heels and a brown leather jacket. She had a small cameo charm around her neck and she smiled with perfectly straight teeth up at George.

"George Weasley, isn't it?" she asked in a smooth voice, the slightest hint of a Welsh accent under her words.

George nodded. "That's me," he replied, "Might I enquire as to who you might be?"

"My name is Tabitha Kendall," she replied, holding out her hand to shake his.

George took her hand and he said, "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Kendall," and kissed her hand. He felt a little unnerved – Fred's voice had put him on edge.

Tabitha smiled. "You're quite the charmer."

"I like to keep a good reputation," he replied with a half smile. "Would you like a drink?"

"Oh, I'm alright, thanks." She flicked back a strand of hair from her eyes. "I think we've met once before."

"Really?" George asked. "I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"It was at your shop, about three years ago," she said. "I bought a heap of your sleeping potions."

George suppressed a frown and instead managed to grimace. "Ah – I'm sorry. That might've been my brother."

Tabitha's smile faded slightly. Slightly flustered, she began to apologise, but George shook it off and asked her whether she went to Hogwarts.

She nodded. "I was a few years below you and your brother. I finished last year."

Nineteen, George thought. Not so bad, and she seemed nice. "You would have been there when Snape was headmaster," George said with a small laugh. "That would have been a hoot."

Tabitha rolled her eyes. "You have no idea. It was so depressing. My mum took me out halfway through and enrolled me into Beauxbatons, but they didn't get back to us until it was the summer holidays, and by that time Hogwarts had reopened with McGonagall as Headmaster."

"So you were home schooled for a while?" George asked. "I suppose a whole lot of kids were. Even Hogwarts wasn't safe back then."

"It was better than most places," Tabitha said. "Besides, it's just about back to normal now, isn't it? Everything's getting better again. I mean, this is the first new club to have opened in Diagon Alley for years – it took them all that time to reopen all the old shops, and Madame Malkin's place is still getting repaired."

George liked the way she talked so much. She was quick, she was pretty. She had a nice nature, she was entertaining without being annoying. They fetched themselves a few drinks and some firewhiskey shots and found themselves a seat at the bar.

Tabitha had just got herself a job at Ollivander's as a personal assistant, and had secured herself an apprenticeship in wand making. She was excited as to the prospect of wand making – it was an incredibly good trade and the opportunities to travel were amazing.

George noticed something odd about Tabitha – her hair seemed to change colour. It was difficult to tell, but he noticed it changing more often, and it wasn't just because of the flashing lights. It was darker now, and difficult to tell, but he knew it wasn't a trick of the light.

"Tabitha, is your hair changing colour?" he asked, as soon as a gap arose in the conversation.

Tabitha smiled in an almost private way. "Indeed it is. Very observant of you, Mr. Weasley."

"Well, you were kind enough to notice that I was missing an ear, I might as well acknowledge the fact that you seem to have chameleon hair."

Tabitha laughed. "Chameleon is a word for it. I'm a metamorphmagus."

George paused, before a smile appeared on his face. It was a genuine smile. He loved Teddy Tonks, who was a metamorphmagus like his mother. George missed Tonks and her brilliant sense of humour and her equally brilliant hair. She was an amazing woman and Teddy was all that and more – he looked every part like his father when he wasn't changing faces, and he had Tonks' big dark eyes.

"I know a kid who is a metamorphmagus," George said. "He's brilliant. I bet you have a lot of fun with that."

Tabitha nodded. "My abilities aren't as strong as some – I can't change the shape of my face, I can only change the colour of my hair and eyes. Is your friend a full metamorphmagus?"

"Yeah, Teddy's only a toddler but he's already got the hang of copying people's faces. He's a real laugh," George said.

Tabitha smiled. "I think I'd like to meet Teddy. He sounds cute."

"He is cute," George replied. "And if you'd like to meet him, I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem. I'm babysitting him next weekend."

Tabitha smiled and brushed the hair back from her face. It might have been the alcohol or it might have been George being lonely, but she seemed so pretty. George leaned over and he said to her, "This place is getting a little busy. Did you want to go back to mine?"

Tabitha paused for a moment, before she smiled a little and said, "I'd love to, George, but – I'm not too sure. I have to get home."

George nodded, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Maybe next time?"

He looked back and her big blue eyes shone up at him and he grinned. "Of course."


	5. Chapter 5

So this is one of the last sections I wrote before I had to actually do some real work. It's been edited slightly, but after this it's new stuff. Hopefully I haven't lost my spark.

Hope you like it, I hope it's going well :) Let me know what you think, I do really appreciate your opinions.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Five_

A blood-chilling scream made George's eyes snap open wide, and he shot upright in his bed. It was still dark, still in the early hours of morning. He felt his heart racing and sweat running down the skin of his back, and his breathing was uneven and heavy.

Was it his dream? He couldn't be sure. All he could remember was thinking about Tabitha before he fell asleep, but he dreamed of another girl. That Malfoy girl – what was her name? Aurelia. He had a terrible dream about Aurelia. He'd seen some horrible things – he could see those images of her scared face flashing through his mind, and he saw other faces he recognised – the faces of Death Eaters.

George threw his covers off and he strode over to his desk. He rummaged through the mess of the first few drawers until he found what he was looking for.

It was the official wanted list, printed by the Order of the Phoenix to inform wizards and witches of who was the most dangerous to them. The list consisted almost entirely of Death Eaters.

It had been Remus Lupin's idea. He decided to enchant each piece of parchment to remove the dangerous person's name, should they die or be captured and sent to Azkaban. Not many names remained on the list, but there were a few that George recognised.

Nott – he had been missing since the war. Nobody had a clue where he was. Similarly, Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix's husband, hadn't been seen by anybody. Yaxley, the Death Eater who had infiltrated the ministry, had been captured, but he had escaped. They didn't even manage to get him to Azkaban. Dolohov had pleaded innocent, and claimed to be under the Imperius Curse – anybody in their right mind knew it was a lie, but after what happened to Pius Thicknesse, they were willing to believe it.

However, he was still on this list. Clearly the parchment still considered him to be dangerous.

There was one other name that George recognised. He knew that name better than most.

Augustus Rookwood.

The man who killed Fred Weasley.

George felt the muscles in his neck strain as he tried to control his anger. Rookwood was still out there. His face flashed through George's mind again and there was no doubt he was the man in the dream, the one who was hurting Aurelia Malfoy.

In his dream, she had been lying on the floor, curled up, trying to make herself as small as possible. Rookwood threw curses around her, making her flinch and cover her head with her hands. He had laughed, and without a warning he hit her with a curse which began to burn at her skin, and she opened her mouth in a chilling scream, gripping at her clothes as they began to light on fire, blood seeping from her skin into the torn cloth of her already blood stained shirt, a pool of dark blood on the floor below her.

Rookwood laughed at her, and he doused the flames, only to start them up again.

The dream never seemed to end.

George felt as though he were about to vomit as the images flashed through his mind. He hated this. From a very young age, Fred and George had always had premonitions – they had never been good. Fred had foreseen the death of James and Lilly Potter when he was a toddler, and he had cried for three days straight before their death. Molly and Arthur knew something was wrong, but they couldn't work out what it was. George's most notable premonition was that of Barty Crouch's death. That was during the Triwizard tournament – George's nightmares plagued him for nights, and he tried to warn Barty but the man was already on edge enough that he didn't want to speak to anybody.

But what was more unsettling about this dream was that she wasn't dead – not yet, at least. And George had no way of knowing how soon it was going to happen, or whether it was happening at that moment.

Running his shaking hands through his sweat-drenched red hair, George decided he had to do something about it.

But first, he needed a shower. A very hot, very refreshing shower.

* * *

George stared at himself in the mirror. He hadn't looked at himself in a while.

It might have been the nightmare, but he looked terrible. Oliver said he'd looked alright last night, but maybe that's just compared to the way he looked before. George's face hurt every time he smiled, even when he was with Tabitha – she was gorgeous but every time George laughed at one of her jokes, it hurt when he didn't hear his laugh echoed by Fred, standing right next to him. Where he belonged.

George wiped his face with his towel, removing what was left of the water from the shower. His eyes had lost their gleam, the bright emerald now a dull grey-green. His hair was messy and he hadn't cut it for so long. He pushed it back from his face, and he looked at the deep bags beneath his eyes, his gaunt face and his pale skin. Even his freckles looked poxy.

George sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He had lost most of the muscles he'd built up by playing Quidditch – he used to have a good shape. Fred and George used to regularly work out, but since Fred had died, George's well build shape had deteriorated, his broad shoulders now hunched and small, his toned chest and abs reduced to skin and bone. He wasn't getting fat – he wasn't eating himself to death. He hardly ate at all. It wasn't as though he were still in mourning stage, he'd just gotten into a habit of not eating. He didn't feel hunger as much as he used to.

He was a twig, lanky and shapeless, and he was quite ashamed of it. He had no hope of helping Aurelia if he was this weak. You have to stop living a half-life, his mind cried out to him, you have to be strong. You have to be twice the man you were to make up for losing Fred.

It sounded so inspirational, but George felt weak. How could he ever hope to replace Fred? How could he hope to fill that gap?

So weak.


	6. Chapter 6

First new part of the story for a long time. Was meant to be studying for my religion exam.

But hey, what sort of school sets a religion exam and expects anybody to take it seriously?

Burn.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Six_

George threw his coat on and he went downstairs. It was now half past five in the morning and he had already decided where he was going. The Malfoy manor was the first place he was going to go to. He had to let them know what was happening.

He'd never been to the Malfoy Manor. He figured they would have defences set up around their floo networks – most houses did these days. Unless you lived there, you couldn't get in. So that was out of the question. He'd have to apparated and hope that there was only one Malfoy manor this side of the equator.

Placing a small note under the mat for Verity, George took one last glance at Aurelia's poster on the front door of his shop before repressing a shudder at the image of open wounds and the smell of burning skin in his nostrils before he apparated to the Malfoy manor.

Aurelia blinked at the space where he had just been.

* * *

A second later, he appeared outside the manor gates. It was simply huge – the manor itself was outrageously large. What a way to live, he thought, thinking about his own tiny apartment and about the Burrow where he had lived most of his life. Everything about this manor seemed to step all over the Burrow, but George thought quietly to himself that he'd rather be at the Weasley's burrow than the Malfoy manor. This place had such a sense of foreboding and the early morning fog certainly did not help.

George felt goosebumps rise on his skin as he walked up to the gate. He felt a light pressure on his body as he was warned of the impending magic shield protecting the gates. He stopped, held out his hand, and felt an ice cold shield beneath his fingertips, making him hiss and withdraw.

An eye in the gate blinked and opened, flicking around for a moment before it focused on him.

A moment later, there was a crack, and Draco Malfoy stood on the other side of the gate, wearing tracksuit pants and a loose shirt. He'd been sleeping.

"Sorry to wake you," George muttered, shivering in the cold. "But it couldn't wait. I have to ask you something."

"Ask me something?" Draco repeated, frowning. "What could possibly be this important at this hour of the morning?"

George said nothing for a moment, trying to figure out how to word what he had to say, when Draco's eyes widened and he said in a hushed voice, "Aurelia. It's her, isn't it?"

George nodded. "I - I need to talk to you."

Draco hesitated, but he opened the gate with a wave of his hand. George walked through and Draco walked alongside him as they made their way to the large front doors.

"Do you know something?" Draco blurted out, unable to wait until they made it to the front door, beginning to shake from the cold, his bare feet numb as he walked along the icy cold path.

George shook his head. "Get inside, then we'll talk."

Draco nodded, his dishevelled hair hanging over his slate grey eyes. He opened the door as though it weren't locked, but George knew that they would have placed many wards on the manor. Only a Malfoy could open that door.

George followed him into the front room, and was slightly overwhelmed by the sheer greatness of the interior of the mansion. It was not elaborately decorated, the bricks were the original dark grey colour they had always been. Pillars reached from the floor to the ceiling, holding up the many floors of the manor. The walls had few decorations – the most significant being a two large, ornately-framed mirrors on either side of the hall. There was a large fireplace opposite the front door, and a large dining table set upon a deep green carpet that seemed to shimmer in a very expensive way. The seats had intricate designs carved into the wood, tiny patterns of snakes and swirls that danced across the mahogany chairs.

Draco did not wait to let George admire the dramatic, luxurious and oh-so-Malfoy entrance hall, and simply led him up a set of stairs to the left, motioning that he should follow. George followed, trying to keep up with Draco's hurried strides.

He led him down another hallway, past a number of rooms to a large study. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and Draco asked him to wait there for a moment while he excused himself to get changed.

The desk was made of the same deep mahogany the dining table was made of. It had similar patterns, too, the carefully curved edges and ornate drawer-handles. The arm chair behind it was large, had green leather cushioning and the arms were carefully carved wooden snakes, not baring their fangs, simply watching the study carefully. It was slightly unnerving but George found it very intriguing.

He glanced around at the bookshelves around him. There were large collections of books he'd never seen, some books looking older than his Great Aunt Beryl (and that was pretty old). He moved closer to examine a few of the covers, but he couldn't see any that he recognised. Most were to do with rare potion mastery and history of magic.

Draco entered a moment later, dressed now in grey trousers and a buttoned white shirt, his shoes plain black leather. He sat down in the large green leather armchair, and George sat opposite in a slightly smaller armchair on his side of the desk.

Draco watched him for a moment before speaking. "You came to ask about Aurelia?"

George nodded hesitantly. "I – I saw her face in one of my dreams."

"Are you a seer?" Draco asked instantly.

"Fred and I were both seers. We can foresee – well, usually we see death."

Draco's face turned an even whiter shade of pale, which George did not think was physically possible until now. "What does that mean?" he asked, his voice slightly strained.

George sighed. "Look, I saw Aurelia in a dream. She wasn't dying, but – something bad will happen. And we have to stop it."

"What happened?" Draco asked. "What's going to happen? How do you –"

"Draco," George snapped, cutting him off. "Calm down, okay? I won't talk to you if you're frantic."

Draco swallowed his words and nodded, allowing George adequate time to take a few breaths and continue.

"I saw her being – being tortured by a Death Eater," George said slowly, watching Draco carefully to make sure he wasn't going to react badly.

Draco was gripping his seat as George spoke. "Who was it?"

"I'm fairly sure it was Rookwood."

Draco swore beneath his breath, and he stared down at his feet, shadows hanging over his eyes. George had a feeling that this was not terribly good news for Draco.

A moment passed and George could see Draco shaking, not from the cold, but from frustration and from fear. He saw a tear fall from Draco's cheek.

He'd never seen Malfoy cry, but there was a first for everything.

George spoke carefully. "Draco, I need you to tell me what you know about Rookwood. I know he escaped and I know he's out there still, but I need to know what he's got to do with Aurelia."

Draco shook his head. "Once he gets a hold of her, there won't be anything we can do. There's no point."

"Draco, I need you to tell me about Aurelia. I can help you."

His only response was a choked sob.

"Draco, please tell me everything you know." George knew he sounded desperate now. "Please, I need to know."

A shadow fell across the mahogany desk, and George spun to find himself facing Narcissa Malfoy, her sad eyes watching him closely as she said in her quiet voice, "I think I might have to be the one to tell you that."


	7. Chapter 7

So today was my last day this year, finished my last exam. Just under three months till I have to actually start working hard again! Woooh! So in commemoration of my being free from the world of real study, I wrote up a new chapter of a story I haven't worked on since before this year.

Hope this will keep going because I'm starting to like it again. :D stay with me, readers.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Seven_

Narcissa had brought a tray with cups and a teapot with her, and she placed it on the desk, scolding Draco for not taking care of their guest. George began to apologise – after all, it was slightly unreasonable to arrive at their home this early, and unannounced.

Narcissa wouldn't hear it though. She just smiled weakly and said if it was George, he was welcome at any time. George's face froze before he returned the small smile, if a little bit timidly. He wasn't sure of Mrs. Malfoy. She had always been in the background, always been quiet and he'd never seen her without those sad, grey eyes. She wasn't dangerous, but she was unknown. She was a secret.

She sat down beside him, wearing deep silver robes that gathered at her feet. She was an elegant woman. Her blonde and black hair was combed and tied back from her face, her long eyelashes hung over tired, sad eyes. Like George, her cheeks were gaunt and she looked too skinny.

Obviously he wasn't the only one who hadn't found his way back into the land of the living.

Narcissa flicked her wand at the tea and it rose and began to pour into the cups. As she handed it to George, the last few centimetres of the cup filled with milk, and he knew there was sugar in there as well. So even rich people used enchanted teacups.

Narcissa did not sit back in her seat as she picked up her own cup, taking a sip. Draco didn't touch his, and George only held it in his hands, waiting for it to cool. Mrs. Malfoy took a few moments to compose herself, when she smiled nervously and said, "Do you know what the name Aurelia means, George?"

George frowned, and he shook his head. "Sorry, no."

Draco was still staring at the floor. He had wiped the tears away but a small shine still showed on his cheeks.

Narcissa spoke again. "It's not a particularly common name," she said in her quiet voice. "But Aurelia means golden, in Latin." She managed another shaky smile as she glanced at George. "It always struck Lucius as odd that I would name a Malfoy something like that – Lucius wanted to use a family name, but I told him it was a name from my favourite book. And she was my daughter – I wanted her to be perfect."

Narcissa was not crying, but she looked so forlorn that George was sure if she did cry she might fall apart. She looked heartbroken.

"What Lucius didn't know," Narcissa said with a shaky sigh. "Is that she's not his daughter. She's my daughter, but Lucius was not the father. She's not a Malfoy." She smiled a little, and in almost a dry humour, she said, "She's the daughter of a Gryffindor."

George's brow hung heavily over his eyes as he frowned, and he turned to look at Draco, who hadn't moved. Perhaps this wasn't news to him, then. He didn't seem to react like George had.

George felt a deep sadness for Narcissa. She had lost her daughter, the only part of her that wasn't caught in Lucius Malfoy's intricate web. Her eyes shimmered, staring into space, and George wanted to reach out to her, tell her it was okay.

But he wasn't sure it was.

"So Lucius never found out," George said quietly. He stared back out the door, expecting the master of the Malfoy house to appear out of nowhere.

"He's working," Narcissa said, noticing George's worried glance.

George nodded. He hesitated, mouth open, ready to speak, but he cringed, wondering if he was going out of line. Narcissa raised a small eyebrow at him, and George managed an entire sentence.

"If – if you don't mind me asking, who exactly was Aurelia's father?"

Narcissa looked away from him. Draco looked up from the desk, staring at his mother. It appeared to George that perhaps there were some parts of the story that Draco didn't know, either.

It seemed like forever before she replied, but it was only a long moment. She said it almost as though she were relieving a heavy weight from her chest. "Rufus Scrimgeour," she breathed.

Draco blinked, before sitting up and staring at his mother. "Scrimgeour, the Minister for Magic?"

Narcissa glanced at her son before she closed her eyes and nodded. "You have to forgive me, Draco."

George watched as Draco sat back again, a frown still hovering above his eyes.

"Why him?" he asked simply.

Narcissa stared back into empty space. "At the time, he was an Auror. There – there were times when – Lucius, he would become dangerous," she said, turning to speak to George, almost as though she were pleading for his forgiveness, too. It unnerved him.

George said quietly, "You don't have to go into detail, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa paused, and the tendons in her neck tightened. She continued to speak, saying, "I asked Rufus for help after – after there was an incident with Lucius." She glanced at Draco, who wouldn't make eye contact. "I asked if he could find somewhere safe for us, but because I couldn't tell him what had happened, he wasn't able to write a report, and he couldn't find anybody to help us. I went back a few times, and I begged him to help us – I told him we were in danger. You-Know-Who left Lucius a ring just before he disappeared – said it was a gift. We didn't know until now that it was a horcrux, but – but I knew it was evil. It made Lucius do bad things." Her voice was barely a whisper as she spoke.

"I went back to Rufus one last time, and asked him to take Draco. I didn't want to keep Draco in such a terrible place. It was like – it was like he took pity on us," Narcissa said, having trouble finding the words. "I don't know why he did – after the first war, enough people hated the Malfoys, Aurors especially. He knew something bad was happening but he wasn't allowed to file a report unless he was investigating, and there was no record of what was happening."

She spoke slowly, keeping herself calm. "Rufus took Draco and myself to stay with him for a short while. I told Lucius I was visiting my cousins in France. Rufus had a spare room, and his wife had died in the first war. He had no children. He let us stay for as long as we wanted, whenever we wanted. He said it was our sanctuary. We went there many times over the course of a few years. He looked after us."

Draco waited for a long enough gap, before he said, "I don't remember Scrimgeour, Mother. I don't remember any of this."

Narcissa turned away from him, and for the first time, George saw a shimmer of tears in her eyes. "I – I tampered with your memory, Draco. Nobody could know where we had been – especially after I found out I was pregnant."

Draco stared at his mother, shock plastered to his face. "You should have told me," he said, strained, "Why didn't you trust me?"

"It was too dangerous, Draco," George said, interrupting before Narcissa had to explain herself to her son. She looked to him, and George went on. "If Voldemort had any idea what was going on, that you were running away from him…" leaving his sentence unfinished, he said instead, "She was keeping you safe."

Draco's face twitched as he battled with his emotions. He knew Narcissa wouldn't betray him like that, she had done everything to keep him safe. But George knew that he felt more betrayed than ever. There wasn't a person in the world he trusted more than his mother – George knew that feeling. Even if they were always getting in trouble, even if they weren't the greatest students, Molly had always been there for Fred and George. She was a constant, she was a pillar of strength. Narcissa was the same.

There was nothing a mother wouldn't do to protect her children.

Draco swallowed his anger and he said, "Did Scrimgeour know about Aurelia?"

Narcissa shook her head. "The only person I told was Snape. I asked him to look after her at Hogwarts." Her bottom lip began to tremble. "I thought she'd be safe at Hogwarts."

George bit the inside of his lip. It wasn't as complicated as he thought it would be. But then again, how was Rookwood involved? "Are you sure anybody else didn't know?" he asked. "Could somebody have been able to tell that she wasn't Lucius' daughter?"

Narcissa stared at him with confusion. "I – I don't know. All I know is that she's been missing since the war, and I want her home. I want her to be safe."

George knew how dire his situation was now. Either Rookwood was looking for Aurelia and was going to use her to blackmail the Malfoys, use her against them to get whatever it was that he wanted – or simply hurt her as punishment against the Malfoys, who had returned from dark magic after the war. Rookwood was a sick and twisted man, and it wasn't out of the question that he would do something so terrible simply because he could.

The other option was far worse. Rookwood might know that Aurelia was not Lucius' child, and George knew for a fact that Rufus Scrimgeour was a half blood. Not only had Narcissa Malfoy been unfaithful to the royal house of Malfoy, but she had consorted with a Gryffindor, a half blood, introduced muggle blood to the Malfoy family and given birth to a child who in every way disgraced their family tree. If Narcissa's family or the Malfoy family knew this, both her own life and the life of her daughter were in danger.


	8. Chapter 8

This one was difficult to write for some reason. I'm trying to fill in the details and keep the plot line semi-feasible. It's the development stage! I hate developments -_- hopefully it won't last too long.

Read on!

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Eight_**  
**

After excusing himself from Narcissa's presence, saying he had to get home to think things over, George made his way down the stairs the way they had come, pulling his coat back on as he hurried down the steps. He needed to start looking for Aurelia. That was his number one priority. He had to find her before Rookwood got to her.

And if that failed, he had to find Rookwood.

As he was about to open the front door, a hand reached out and held it shut. Draco stood beside George, looking up at him. "You didn't tell me about your dream," he said simply, chest heaving slightly from having moved quickly to catch George before he left.

George shook his head. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

He tried to open the door again but as he did so, Draco put all of his force into shoving it shut again and pushing George away from the door. "No!" he growled. "She's my sister. I deserve to know what's happening to her."

George's lip twitched as he stared at the blonde haired teen. "Look," he said, "I told you, I saw your sister, and I saw Rookwood. All I know is that I need to find her before he does."

"How do you think you're gonna do that?" Draco asked, eyes pleading desperately for an answer, hoping George had thought of something they hadn't. "There aren't any leads, there haven't been for years. How will you find her?"

George clenched his teeth. "I'm going to do some personal investigating," he said. "And if I can't find your sister, you know I'll be looking for Rookwood instead."

"What will you do when you find Rookwood?"

Draco's question was fairly simple, and the more George thought about it, the more he knew that his plan was just as simple.

"Rookwood?" he repeated. "I'm going to kill him, of course."

Before Draco could hold him up for any longer, George pushed past him and walked outside, taking two steps before apparating back to his apartment.

* * *

The problem with finding someone who had been missing for so long was deciding where to start first. George was the last known person to have seen Aurelia, and after he lost her at the Battle she hadn't turned up again. Where could she possibly have gone?

George thought that he could find a list of all the survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts, but he knew that questioning every one of them would be far too time-consuming, and as far as George could guess at, Draco or Narcissa would have done that much already, if they were resorting to lost posters in shop windows. Maybe finding Rookwood first would lead him to Aurelia's location. But how would he find Augustus Rookwood, notorious Death Eater and Azkaban escapee?

He'd need an Auror.

"Harry and Ron," George muttered to himself. "I need to talk to Harry and Ron."

Running downstairs to the fireplace, George flooed himself to the Ministry of Magic in London, the green flames engulfing him and throwing him through the floo network to the Ministry.

George hadn't ever been a fan of floo powder, but he figured it was fairly time efficient.

Finding his way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was fairly simple. Many witches and wizards made their way through Law Enforcement to get back confiscated items or to pay fines. Only a small portion of people who went through Law Enforcement were actually seeking out newly appointed Deputy Auror and hero of the wizarding universe, Harry Potter. George had never actually had the opportunity to call in a favour from Harry as Deputy Auror, but now was as good a time as any.

George stepped into the elevator, and let it carry him across, down, left, down, back and right, taking him deeper into the underground ministry, and before he knew it they were at the Auror's office. Despite having more than enough experience working with Aurors, George had never actually been to the office and he was a little unsure of what he was supposed to do.

Apparently, you couldn't just wander into the Auror's office willy-nilly. George waited impatiently, for the receptionist to acknowledge his presence. After a moment of watching her write painstakingly slowly on a piece of parchment, he cleared his throat.

She glanced up at him with raised eyebrows, brushing back her dark brown hair from her eyes. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, please," George said, managing a polite smile. "I'd like to see a mister Ronald Weasley, if he's around."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley isn't at the office today," she said, not sounding very apologetic at all. "Maybe you can come back tomorrow –"

"Perhaps I could see Mr. Potter, then?"

"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Potter?" the receptionist asked.

"No, but I'm sure he won't mind."

She gave him another glance, looking him up and down. He wasn't wearing particularly flash clothes and his hair was messy and out of place, a freckled, skinny mess of a man. George knew she wasn't taking him seriously.

"There's no guarantee he'll be able to see you at the moment," she said with a forced, sugary smile. "But I'll let him know you're here. Can I see some identification, please, Mister…?"

"Weasley. George Weasley."

He took his papers out of his pocket and handed them to the woman, and he glanced around. The entrance hall was quite large, and the ceilings were high. The walls were made of shining, light grey marble, and there were portraits all along the hall of every Auror that had served since the department's opening. The elite department required the assistance of only the most talented of the witches and wizards – Mad Eye's portrait stared down at him with a gruff look, making a small grunt as he studied George carefully. There were other faces he recognised – Frank Longbottom gave George an approving nod while his wife Alice smiled politely. Kingsley Shacklebolt chuckled at him as he readjusted his hat. Tonks winked at him from the far corner, her hair flashing bright purple as she did so. George missed Tonks.

And there, just next to Tonks' portrait, were Harry's and Ron's. They had passed their Auror training faster than most. There was no set course for learning how to be an Auror, and usually you were meant to have finished your final year of school, but because Harry and Ron were already experienced in fighting dark magic, they had passed all of the tests with flying colours with little training at all.

It felt like forever as he watched the receptionist check his identification. Was she the slowest reader in the world or was George overreacting? He was about to say something when he saw the portrait behind the desk.

Rufus Scrimgeour stared down his pointed nose at George, scrutinising him with his narrow tawny eyes, his mane of golden brown hair surrounding him as he watched George carefully, almost like he knew what he was doing there, like he knew what George was up to. He frowned, not angrily, but curiously. George thought it would be interesting to see Scrimgeour smile. He'd never seen a smile from the man, not in person, portrait or Prophet. Beneath the photo was a golden tablet that said, _Rufus Scrimgeour – Head Auror 1987-1996_.

"Hello, George," a voice said cheerily, "What are you doing here?"


	9. Chapter 9

More development. Gotta love the development stage of the narrative structure. (It's minor detail and it keeps me entertained.)

Thanks for reading this, whoever you are. Special thanks to Kasuka-Chan and tOrNaDoChAsEr11 (epic pen name) for being the first reviewers of the story. Thanks guys, you made my week :D

On with the story.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Nine_**  
**

George jumped, turning and nearly losing his balance, heart racing again. He was a little too on edge. "Harry," he said with a sigh of relief, remembering why he was there, "I came to see you."

Harry frowned. "But it's Saturday, I'm going to the Burrow for dinner tonight. Why did you come see me at my office?"

"I need you to – to file a report," George said.

Harry's frown fell further, and he turned to the receptionist. "Don't worry about an appointment, Jenny. I know it's George." He turned to his red-headed friend and he said with a smile, "You can't fake having only one ear."

George grimaced back and followed Harry down the hall, past a number of offices with heavy black doors, and the same golden plaques as below the portraits were on the doors. There were a few names George recognised, and a few he didn't. Kingsley was Minster for Magic now and Mad Eye and Tonks were dead – Proudfoot and Savage had been Aurors throughout the war and afterwards, and they were still both working. Gawain Robards' office was at the end of the hall – he was the Head Auror. A brilliant wizard, Arthur Weasley had always said. Gawain had organised the protection of Muggles during both wars. He was what Arthur called the 'good sort'.

Harry reached his door and placed his hand upon the elegant door-handle, and rested it there momentarily. Seconds later, a tiny click sounded and the door unlocked, and Harry opened the door, inviting George inside.

The office was simple, and messy. It was not like Harry to be neat – George knew he was always leaving stuff lying around when he spent his holidays at the Burrow, and when he'd seen his room from the window of the flying Ford Anglia, he'd say it wasn't uncommon for Harry to simply throw clothes, books, letters, rubbish, owl food and any other throw-able item onto the floor. His office had sturdy bookshelves with a large collection of books concerning potions, magic and the dark arts. A pile of newspapers sat next to Harry's desk, and shelves on the wall opposite the desk had a few of Harry's favourite items, including a Sneakoscope and his Golden Snitch, as well as some photographs of family and friends. On the wall behind the desk hung the Sword of Gryffindor, and on a coat stand beside the door hung Harry's spare robes and his invisibility cloak. There were a number of chests and drawers which were likely to contain report files and investigation notes.

And on Harry's desk, apart from another shiny plaque that said _Harry Potter_ and a few unfinished reports spread out on the surface, was a photo of Harry, Ron and Hermione, and another beside it of James, Lily, Lupin and Sirius. They all smiled up at him, whether it was Ron's eager grin, Hermione's own gentle smile, Lupin's calm, all-knowing stare, or James and Sirius pulling faces out of the photo and Lily pretending not to laugh. George felt his own lips twitch upwards at the photos.

"Take a seat, George," Harry said. "Did you want something to drink?"

George shook his head. "No, thank you."

Harry sat down behind his desk. "You said you wanted to file a report." His frown returned. "Can I ask what this is all about?"

George's nose twitched and he wondered if he could trust Harry with all the information. Quite probably, if it was going to save Aurelia. And Harry was bound to a contract, as all Aurors were, that he would not disclose information about his investigations to anybody not involved.

George began to speak.

"I'm here to ask about Rookwood."

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise, not expecting that response. "Augustus Rookwood, you mean? Why do you want me to investigate him?"

"It's a pretty long story," George said hesitantly.

"I can't file a report until you tell me what's going on."

"So I've heard," George muttered. "Alright then."

He took a breath, and began to speak. When he had finished telling Harry most of what he knew (leaving out the part about Scrimgeour being Aurelia Malfoy's real father, as he felt that was somewhat private information, and an unnecessary minor detail), Harry sat back in his chair and rubbed at his forehead.

"So what you're saying," Harry said slowly, "Is that Narcissa Malfoy had an affair and gave birth to a daughter – Aurelia, who is Draco's half-sister. Aurelia hasn't been seen since the Battle of Hogwarts, and there is absolutely no way of finding her." Harry paused, and stared at George with a confused frown. "What on earth has that got to do with Augustus Rookwood?"

George bit the inside of his lip. "Well – Harry, did you ever take divination?"

"Yeah, Ron and I did," he replied. "Why?"

"Did you learn about the Sight?"

"Um, yeah. A bit," Harry replied. "Mostly using cards and teacups and matchsticks though. Wasn't incredibly educational."

George nodded. "I always reckoned those teacups were a load of bollocks anyway. I've got the sight, and Fred did as well. I had a pretty nasty vision about Aurelia being tortured by Rookwood. When I mentioned it to Malfoy, he got pretty distraught."

"You went to see Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"This morning."

Harry nodded. "Okay then. That presents an issue – if she's missing, and Rookwood gets her, is he going to use her to get what he wants from the Malfoys?"

"I'm more worried about him finding out she's not a pureblood," George admitted. "If he knows she's not Lucius' daughter, he could quite possibly feel the need to – to remove her from the family tree, as it were, and get rid of Narcissa as well."

Harry tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I see."

"Feel like writing a report yet?" George asked after Harry didn't keep talking.

Harry grimaced. "Well, honestly, Rookwood hasn't been seen since the Battle of Hogwarts either. Gawain was investigating him, but he hasn't showed up on the radar at all."

George frowned, confused. "What's a radar?"

"Never mind. What I mean is, nobody has seen him and he hasn't been linked to any deaths in the Muggle or Wizarding world. We think he's either dead, or just in hiding. The latter is more likely."

"Two years is a long time to spend in a cave," George said sceptically.

"Two years is nothing. Voldemort spent ten years hiding and another five years after that he only showed himself to very few people," Harry said. "Rookwood could be the same. He could have been hurt at the Battle and spent two years lying low, trying to figure out what to do next. If he is a plausible danger to society, we're supposed to investigate."

"Then what are you waiting for?" George asked, not meaning to snap but unable to stop himself. "Why aren't you trying to find him?"

"Calm down, George," Harry said placidly. "It's not me you're angry at."

When George sighed and sat back in his seat, apologising as he did so, Harry went on. "There are a few reasons why. Firstly, if we spent all of our time solving cold cases and trying to find missing Death Eaters, we wouldn't be able to stop real time threats. We have to protect people, George – that's our job. We have to have priorities. The second reason – and the most relevant reason here – is that we can't investigate without proper information or resources."

"But I know Rookwood is planning to do something," George said. "You believe me, don't you?"

"I do, George, but others might not," Harry said. "You're not a Ministry registered Seer, and in order to follow a case based on a vision, that's what you have to be. We can't chase up cases based on visions – a lot of people used to use visions as an excuse to get Aurors to work for them."

"How do I become a registered Seer?" George asked.

"You have to visit the Department of Mysteries. But George, the process takes months. You have to sit tests and interviews, and the paperwork takes forever." Harry shrugged in an almost hopeless way. "If you do that, it might take too long. It might be too late."

George closed his eyes, and he sighed. What was he going to do now? It seemed as though his only hope had failed him.

Harry saw George's tired eyes lose their shine, not for the first time, and he stood and walked over to a set of drawers beside a mysteriously placed window that George hadn't seen. They were underground, weren't they?

He stopped wondering about the window when Harry said, "Just wait here for a moment. I need to find something." Harry walked out of the door and left George alone with his thoughts for a moment.

George now understood Narcissa's desperation – being unable to find a way to protect somebody from great danger, somebody unable to defend themselves – that felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders, like tonnes of pressure pushing down on him, making him feel more desperate and hopeless. He was running out of options. He didn't even know what his options were.

Before George could ponder much more, Harry entered the room again, holding a thick file in his hands. "This is Rookwood's file," he said. "Gawain has enough copies. He said I could take this one."

He held it out to George. "I don't know what else I can do, George," he said, an apologetic tone to his voice. "I want to help but there's not much I can do. I'll start looking at Rookwood, I'll pick up the old trail. I might be able to find him but it's going to be difficult."

George was still for a moment, holding the leather-bound folder in his thin hand, before he stood up and pulled Harry into a quick embrace. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry smiled, putting his glasses back in place as he said, "Don't thank me yet. I'll see what I can do."


	10. Chapter 10

Getting back into the habit of cliffhangers. Apologies in advance. (but hey, the development is almost finished. shit's gonna go down.)

Oh yeah, I forgot to add... REVIEW please, I like reviews. They keep me warm at night.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Ten_

George had read through the file on Saturday night and hardly slept, and it was now Sunday morning. Usually he worked on various experiments and inventions on a Sunday, but he knew he had to work towards finding Rookwood. George could never tell how soon a premonition would become reality – it could be happening at that very moment.

It was strange, because even though George had only ever seen Aurelia once, and didn't even know who she was, was unaware of her existence for all of his life, he felt a strange connection to her. Maybe it was more of a connection to the Malfoys in general, because of Rookwood. Rookwood had killed Fred, and George couldn't even stand the thought of having that happen to anybody. Surely the Malfoys had been through enough without having to suffer the death of a family member.

George wondered what was happening to him. All his life he'd called Malfoy a slimy git, hated him with a passion. He'd been that stuck up rich kid who always wanted to get his way. George didn't even think for a moment that there was more to it than that. If Lucius had been under the control of a horcrux for so long, there was no way of knowing what he could have done to his family. For Narcissa to have to rewrite her own son's memories – that was a terrible thing.

For the first time, George realised that the Malfoys, for all of their shortcomings, were just people. They were just like him, and if he wasn't careful, Rookwood would destroy their lives as he had already destroyed George's.

As he began to open the shop, Verity walked through the front door and shot a quick smile his way. "Alright, George?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

They spent half an hour sorting the shop, cleaning up and restocking the shelves. Verity was a brilliant woman – she always knew how much of everything there was, she checked the security charms and rechecked them, she counted the money at the desk and the money in the safe. Today was Sunday so they usually went to deposit what they earned down at Gringott's at the end of the day. There were less people there on Sundays.

Just before the shop opened, George said to Verity, "It's not going to be too busy today, and I've got a bit of work that needs doing. Do you mind if I pop upstairs for a bit?"

"No worries. I'll let you know if I need anything."

"Thanks, Verity."

George messed up her short blonde hair before she smacked his hand away and glared at him. "Watch it, Weasley."

George raised his eyebrows. "No need to get violent, Verity. You wouldn't want to mess with this." He gestured to his torso area, as though to show how strong he was.

"You're a twig, Weasley," Verity laughed, "You'd lose in a fight against me."

"Challenge not accepted."

* * *

The file sat on his desk, waiting patiently, where he had left it the night before. He flicked open the front cover, and Rookwood stared out at him darkly, making George's blood boil. It was his Azkaban mug shot – his face was unshaven, his eyes tormented and full of hate, his hair dirty and lank. He looked every part the Death Eater he was.

George began to reread the file, trying to find something he could use. The first few pages talked about Rookwood himself – when he was born, who his parents were, any known siblings. Just about everything was blank. The man was a mystery, no family or children to his name. He was an Unspeakable but during his time at the ministry he did not reveal to his co-workers anything about himself. He kept to himself, he did not socialise, he was never promoted and not fired. Nondescript as you can be – until he was revealed as a Death Eater by Igor Karkaroff.

He escaped from Azkaban during the mass breakout in 1996. He was arrested again after the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, and released the year after when Voldemort took control of the Ministry. He had taken part in the Battle of Hogwarts, and has been missing for two years since.

There had been reported sightings of him just after the Battle – he was seen at Hogsmeade just after the Battle, after being chased from Hogwarts by Aberforth Dumbledore, and apparated from there to central London to return to the Ministry. It had, by this point, been retaken by the Order. Rookwood fled from the scene and had not been seen since.

Rookwood was placed on the list of wanted criminals for both the wizarding and muggle worlds, but nothing had come of it. Nobody knows where he went – of the list of his known residences and possible residences, he had not appeared at one of them. Included on the list was the Malfoy Manor – George frowned at that for a moment, before he remembered that Voldemort had used it as headquarters.

Of the list there were a few which George found interesting – he had been born in rural Ireland and moved to live with his father in Kent when he was young after his mother died. She was a muggle. George found that curious.

Rookwood and his father had lived in a number of apartments which were now occupied by Muggles, and he had not appeared at any of them. His father had died shortly before he began attending Hogwarts. Having no family to take care of him, and no will left by either of his parents, he was moved to live in an orphanage in London known as Wool's Orphanage.

George frowned. Where had he heard that before? It seemed curiously familiar. Somebody had mentioned it before, as though in background conversation, and George tried to recall who it might have been. Wool's Orphanage. What was significant about the place?

He felt as though he were perched on the edge of remembering when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

George let out a startled cry of shock and leapt from his seat, tripping and falling to the ground. He groaned as he felt something dig into his back, and he stared up at who it was who had crept up on him.

It was Tabitha. She smiled down at him and reached out a hand to help him up. "Hello, George."

George took her hand and he said shakily, "Blimey, I wish people would stop sneaking up on me like that."

"I didn't mean to frighten you," she said.

Her skin was paler than he remembered – perhaps she hadn't changed the colour. George guessed it was easy to get a nice tan when you could change your skin tone. Her hair was a jet black colour, and George wondered why. He remembered when Tonks had been upset – her hair always used to turn darker.

"Are you okay, Tabitha?"

She smiled again, and said, "I'm fine."

There was something wrong. Her voice sounded monotone, her smiles didn't feel as warm as they had on Friday night. Her hands were shaking.

"Here, sit down," George said, turning to pick up his chair. "What was it that –"

As he turned back, George's sentence fell short as he saw Tabitha's hand outstretched, her wand pointed at him. Her hands were still shaking, and as she stared at George he noticed her eyes – they were glazed over, as though she was blind, and reflecting a light that wasn't there.

"Tabitha?" he asked carefully. "What are you doing?"

Her lip trembled as tried to speak but couldn't, her eyes were growing darker. Her breathing became heavy, and George could see she was fighting with herself. Something was oddly familiar about her behaviour…

George felt cold as he realised she was under the Imperius Curse.


	11. Chapter 11

I didn't like writing this one at all. I really didn't. That is all.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Eleven_

The shock of realising that she was cursed flooded George's mind with fears and questions, but he forced himself to stay calm. The only way she could be free of the curse was to find the willpower to do it – that said, George didn't know how strong a person she was. If she was weak-spirited, there was no hope. Yet she was shaking, and trembling. Her eyes flashed from dark to light sporadically, as though the curse was flickering. But her wand was still pointed at him and it would only take one small spell, one split second for her to lose control entirely and George would be dead.

Who wanted him dead?

George took a deep breath and he said, "Tabitha, you don't want to do this."

Her face twitched and her nostrils flared, and she opened her mouth to speak but her neck wrenched and twisted grotesquely until she had closed her lips, and she stared at George with fear in her eyes.

George reached out to her with his hand, and Tabitha skirted backwards, away from him. "Don't move!" she hissed, her voice cold and harsh.

"Tabitha," George said. "I'll help you. Trust me. Take control."

"Don't –" she hissed again, but she choked on her words. "I can't –"

"Drop the wand, Tabitha."

"Can't –" she choked again, and then her small voice said, "George, help."

George's large hand gently held her wrist, and her straining muscles twitched with spasms beneath his hand. Her knuckles were as white as her eyes, and then, as though it had been so simple all along, she let go.

The wand dropped to the floor, and Tabitha's knees buckled and she slid down the wall, hot tears burning their way down her cheeks. George knelt beside her and he pulled her into his arms, saying, "Shh, you're okay. It's alright."

Tabitha sobbed into his shoulder and George helped her to stand up and walked her over to the chair, sitting her down. Her hands covered her face, her now eyes becoming red and swollen. "I'm – I'm so sorry, George," she stammered, her voice still choked up.

"Shh, it's okay," George said, his heart pumping adrenaline through his body. He had been that close. For everything he had been through, that had possibly been one of the worst experiences of his life.

Almost.

Tabitha wouldn't look at him – she was clearly ashamed. For somebody as sweet as Tabitha to almost have killed somebody – that was clearly traumatising her. She wasn't the sort of person who would hurt a dragon if it tried to eat her for breakfast.

"I didn't mean to –"

"I know you didn't," George said, as he reached up and brushed the hair back from her face. "Who put you up to this? Can you remember?"

She shook her head.

"You don't remember who it was?"

"I don't – I don't know who it was," she said, voice trembling. "He didn't tell me his name. He was –"

She paused, eyes widening. "What is it?" George said. "What's wrong?"

"That's him," Tabitha said, pointing to the open file on George's desk. "It was him."

George glanced to the photo she was pointing at – Rookwood's Azkaban photo. George looked at her with a frown. "Rookwood? Are – are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm sure it was him."

"When did you see him?" George asked, feeling frantic. "Did he go to your house?"

"Y-yeah. He came to my house last night. I – I was meant to come here last night but I made myself stay at home. I couldn't – I couldn't stop it from happening," she said, beginning to cry again. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"It's alright," he said. "You're okay now."

So Rookwood knew what George was up to. Someone had tipped him off – who could possibly have known? George had only spoken to Harry, Draco and Narcissa. Somebody had been following him. Did Rookwood want George to chase him? Maybe killing one Weasley wasn't enough and he wanted to finish what he'd started.

"Tabitha," George began carefully, "Did Rookwood ask you anything about me?"

"He – he only asked how well I knew you," she replied. "He said he had something of yours. He – he can't kill you. I don't know why."

George frowned. Rookwood couldn't kill him? That was strange.

Tabitha was watching him with scared eyes. "George, what's going on?"

"Tabitha, you need to listen to me," he said. "Do not leave this place. I'm going to get Verity to close the shop and you are not allowed to leave until I know it's safe. Rookwood will kill you if he knows I'm still alive. Do you understand?"

Tabitha nodded. "Y-yes, but why –"

"I don't have time to explain," he said, "I'm sorry. But I'll be back soon, and I'll look after you." He managed a comforting smile, squeezing her hand gently. "You're brilliant, you know that? Anybody else wouldn't have been able to fight off an Imperius curse."

Tabitha smiled weakly. "Thanks."

George kissed her forehead and said, "You wait here. I'll come back soon."

He picked up his wand and apparated out of the room with a loud crack.

* * *

He landed outside of the Malfoy manor, up to his ankles in mud, with rain pelting down from above. George had only been there a few seconds and his bright red hair had become damp, sticking to his forehead and neck. His clothes began to soak up the raindrops and he shivered as a single raindrop ran down his spine. He stumbled to the front gate and reached out to touch the barrier but it wasn't there. He ran up to the gate and he yelled out, "Good morning, Malfoy family! Anybody home?"

There was a small whispering sound, and the gate clicked open. George pushed it open, and he ran towards the manor, and he saw Narcissa waiting at the open door. He ran up the steps, and said, "Morning, Mrs. Malfoy. Mind if I come in?" As he spoke, he waved his wand and his hair became instantly dry, and his clothes became warm around him as though they had been ironed minutes before.

"Of course, George, I hope that you –" Narcissa began, but her sentence fell short. George stared down at her frozen face and watched the blood drain from her cheeks, her pupils dilated quickly as her body became tense.

"What's wrong?" George asked hesitantly.

Narcissa only pointed back the way George had just come. She whispered something but George didn't hear what she said.

He turned, and he saw someone standing on the other side of the gate. Long lank hair and poisoned eyes stared down at him and a sharp-toothed smile flashed through the rain as thunder crashed around them.

A flash of lightning struck, and the scene was illuminated for a second – it was Rookwood.

George could see him holding somebody next to him. Kneeling on the floor, being held up by her hair, she stared with big eyes through the gates at George. Her hair turned white as Rookwood pulled out his wand.

Another flash of lightning showed her face, and Tabitha screamed as Rookwood pointed his wand towards her.

"No – please, Tabitha, no!" George cried, running back towards the gate through the pouring rain. He took out his wand, the curse upon his lips, but he was too late as in that split second, a hissed incantation and a flash of green rendered Tabitha lifeless, and then Rookwood disappeared, letting Tabitha slump dead to the floor.

George cried out again as he threw himself beside her, taking her pale face in his hands and staring into her eyes which didn't stare back. Tears mingled with the rain as the lightning struck relentlessly, and George clutched onto her lifeless body as he let out choked sobs, wishing that she'd wake up and pretend it had never happened.

It was only when Narcissa walked out to him and put her gentle, frail hand on his shoulder that he picked Tabitha up from the floor in his arms and he walked back to the manor.


	12. Chapter 12

So this one took a while to finish. It was half done when I found out that a relative has T4-pancreatic cancer. So I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen now. I guess it's fingers crossed for a while.

I finished this one and hopefully I'll be able to finish more but I don't know how quickly I'm going to get it done. So if I promise to hang in there, you should too, and I'll get this thing done eventually.

Thanks.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twelve_

George was sitting down by the fireplace in the study, shaking, but not from the cold. Eyes wide, he swallowed his fear and turned to where Draco stood in the doorway.

Draco hesitated before speaking. "I – I sent a patronus to the Ministry. They'll be sending Aurors as soon as they know what happened."

George's eyes continued staring into the fire, waving tendrils of flame reflected in his otherwise dull green eyes. He had not bothered to dry himself before coming inside the second time. Tabitha's body was resting in one of the spare rooms. George hadn't spoken since he'd walked inside the Manor.

Draco went on, voice unsteady. "What are we going to tell the Aurors? And what – what about my father? What are we supposed to tell him?"

"Tell him the truth," George replied bluntly. "Tell him Rookwood is after me."

"Because you're helping us to find Aurelia?"

"Yes."

"Then – then what do we tell them?" Draco stammered. "They'll want to know why you're helping us."

"Tell them the truth," George repeated, voice becoming quieter as he spoke. "Tell them it's because I don't want to see another person killed by Rookwood." He felt a burn inside his chest, knowing that he had already failed in that area. Rookwood had killed Tabitha. He must have been to the shop, he must have gone looking for George there, if he'd found Tabitha.

The shop…

_Verity._

George frowned, and stood up. Draco stared at him in surprise, saying, "What's wrong?"

"Verity," George replied. "My shop assistant. Rookwood went to the shop. Where is your floo powder?"

Draco was frozen, the last request lost on him as he tried to gather what was happening. He never did work well in a panic situation, did Draco.

"_Draco_. Floo powder."

"R-right. In the top drawer."

George opened the top drawer of the heavy wooden desk and snatched a handful of floo powder in his long-fingered hand. He threw the floo into the fireplace, watching the flickering flame turn a bright green, and he said clearly, "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Diagon Alley."

Stepping into the flame without a second look, George felled himself pulled through the network to his shop, trying to control his panic as he thought about what might have happened to Verity.

* * *

When George stepped out of the fireplace in the storeroom, he noticed something odd already. Something wasn't right. He stared around the dark room, and he wondered what could possibly be wrong.

Noise, he thought. There's no noise. It's almost lunchtime – the shop should have customers.

Breaking into a run to the main shop, he opened the large doors and stared at the shop. Displays had fallen over, broken vials leaving shattered remnants of popular products on the floor. There was a small crowd of people outside staring in, and George stared around the shop, trying to figure out what had happened.

Then, he saw her. Lying in front of the counter, hand outstretched and her grey wand lying a little further away, Verity was immobile on the floorboards. George ran to her, and he rolled her onto her back so he could see her face.

And all the while thinking, _please don't be dead, please don't be dead…_

Brushing the hair from her eyes, George tried to steady his voice as he said shakily, "Verity? Verity, wake up."

George pressed his hand to her neck, and then he pressed his good ear against her chest.

_Thump._

George let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank Merlin. You're alive." He rested his forehead on her chest, and clutched at her clothes. "You're alive."

She groaned, and coughed, and opened her eyes. Staring down at George, she frowned, and said, "Course I'm alive, you stupid git. Get off me."

George smiled, and he pulled away, only to drag her up with him and pull her into a fierce hug. "You're alive."

Verity let out another groan. "Far out, let me go, or I might actually die."

George gently put Verity back where she was, sitting her on a step, and giving her back her wand. "I'm going to take you to St. Mungo's."

"Piss off," she retorted. "I'm fine."

"What happened here?"

"Some mad bloke came charging in," she said. "Said he wanted to see you. I told him you weren't in, cause he looked like he kills puppies when he gets bored." She shuddered. "He said some downright nasty stuff. I got my wand out, shot some sparks, everybody ran screaming from the shop. Next thing I know, I'm being hit by a stunning curse."

George sat down, running his hand through his still slightly wet hair. "Jesus."

"Do you know who he was?"

George sighed. "Yeah. He tried to kill me. He sent somebody to kill me, and when she didn't, he – he –"

"What?" Verity asked, a confused frown tugging her eyebrows down. "What do you mean, trying to kill you? What's going on?"

"He's the bloke who killed Fred," George said, clenching his fists. "He – he's a murderer, and a kidnapper. He's after one of the Malfoys. I'm – I was trying to help them, and then – he sent Tabitha to kill me. Put her under the Imperius curse. She – she's _dead_. I tried to –"

George found himself shaking again, and then the tears began to fall. He hadn't cried at all. In such a short space of time, he'd been sucked into the mystery of Aurelia Malfoy, been hunted by Rookwood, watched an innocent young witch die before his eyes. Hot tears burned his skin as he pressed his fists into his eyes, body trembling from violent sobs. He felt Verity's gentle hand on the back of his neck and he let himself lean against her, and she held him close as he cried. He felt so weak. Everything was his fault.

* * *

It was at that moment that freshly graduated Auror Ronald Weasley walked into the shop, after having elbowed his way through the growing crowd outside. The smashed windows and debris throughout the shop was not a good sign, and then he saw his brother being cradled by Verity, and her wide horrified eyes stared up at Ron, asking questions he wasn't sure he'd have the answers to.

Walking over to his brother, Ron crouched down and he put his hand on George's shoulder. "George – are you alright? What's going on, mate?"

George looked up at him through tear stained eyes and he said, "Rookwood. He's back."

Ron froze, his reassuring smile plastered to his face for a moment. It began to fade, and a look of anger replaced it. A heavy frown hovered over Ron's eyes, burning with anger. He swore beneath his breath, and he said, "Don't you worry, mate. We'll get him. He won't hurt you."

To Ron's surprise, George shook his head. "It's not me I'm worried about_._"


	13. Chapter 13

I got bored and wrote a few chapters. It was only meant to be one but it was too long for one and kinda short for two... but it's cooler as two. Makes things more fun for me.

Have fun reading.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirteen_

Harry threw open the blinds in his office, light pouring in from the window that shouldn't have been there. George squinted his eyes. He hadn't left the house all day. The late morning sun was shining rather harshly.

It was Monday, and Harry had forced George out of his apartment, told him to come down to his office. He told him they could think it over together. Now that they had proof Rookwood was still alive and dangerous, they would have to hunt him down as soon as possible. Rookwood was now Undesirable number one, replacing Fenrir Greyback on the list. Fenrir had kept quiet for a while – he'd popped up on the map here and there, but he had a prison sentence that needed serving. He wasn't actually killing anybody.

Not yet, anyway. If Rookwood was trying to gather more of the Dark Lord's followers, then they would have to double their efforts. It was unlikely, but still possible.

George sat down at the desk, and Harry threw down the files he'd been holding. "Now that I've filed the report, I can disclose more information to the public." He glanced at George. "That's you. You're also a witness, so if there is a trial you'll have to be there. That's okay with you?"

George shrugged. "Fine by me."

"Good. Okay, Ron should be here soon but he's never on time. Kingsley will be down in a few minutes, we're meeting him and a few others in the conference room. There might be a few Unspeakables there, too."

"Did they work with him when he was at the Ministry?" George asked out of curiosity.

Shaking his head, Harry said, "Nobody works as an Unspeakable for that long. They said something about a prophecy."

"What? A prophecy?" George asked, frowning. "Are they talking about what I saw, or something else?"

"They wouldn't say. Dodgy people, Unspeakables."

Harry glanced at his watch. "We've got five minutes. Do you want a cup of tea?"

"No, thanks."

"You're having one," Harry said, waving his wand across the room. The kettle began to boil. "I bet you haven't had breakfast. I bet you haven't eaten since Saturday."

George looked at Harry. "That predictable, hey?"

"You never used to stop eating, George," Harry said with a grimace. "You didn't go to the Burrow last night – I asked Hermione. Even when you go there, you just push the food around. It's not good for you."

"I don't feel hungry," George retorted. "I never feel hungry. Food isn't – it doesn't make me feel better."

Harry frowned, almost disapprovingly. "Quite frankly, George, I think you're being stupid. You won't even go to eat dinner when it's made for you. I lived in a house for ten years eating only stale bread and leftovers. You don't even live at the Burrow anymore and Molly still cooks you dinner."

"Don't take me on a bloody guilt trip, Harry."

"It's true, George," Harry insisted. "Even if you're not hungry, when you push away your plate it worries Molly – and everybody else, for that matter."

"If they don't understand, then –"

"Dammit, George!" Harry said, voice raised suddenly, slamming his hand against the desk, "You're not the only person who has lost somebody!"

George stared at Harry in disbelief for a second, before the Auror muttered an apology and began to gather his things. Nobody had actually been angry at George for a long time. Ron had said a few things last year about his behaviour, yelled at him for being a selfish Git. George had thrown a pimple potion at him and then proceeded to lock himself in the store room. Probably not the most mature reaction in the world, but it seemed acceptable at the time.

George looked at Harry again, and said slowly, "Am – am I – really that unbearable?"

Harry sighed. "George, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm only worried about you. You're forgetting what's important. I mean, think – what if it had been you, and not Fred? What would he be doing?"

George frowned, face contorted in a painful mix of emotions. Would Fred just forget about him? Would Fred keep on living his life, pretending nothing was wrong? He might get married and have a bunch of red-headed kids. What would he be doing right now?

"You're asking me to pretend nothing is wrong," George said, "I can't – I can't just _forget _what's happened…"

"I didn't say you have to forget," Harry said. "There's a distinct difference between forgetting and moving on. Fred would want you to be happy. You – you have to remember that. He's still a part of you." Harry's words were spoken with a maturity well beyond his age, and George felt as though he were speaking to somebody much older and wiser.

But it still hurt.

Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Let's go catch a killer. That should take your mind off things for a while."


	14. Chapter 14

I love creating random characters. :) that is all.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Fourteen_**  
**

There were a few notable people at the conference. Gawain Robards, the new Head Auror, was seated at the head of the table. He had a short brown beard and narrow black eyes, a long scar running down his right cheek and through his right eye. He had a large chest. His hair was tied back in a short ponytail. He reminded George of a dragon, the way his eyes moved, the texture of his leathery skin on his hands and face. He inspired confidence, in a strange way.

Beside Robards sat Kingsley Shacklebolt in royal blue robes. Kingsley had never been one for the standard black robes of the ministry. Clever brown eyes glanced at George, and with a small smile and a nod of his head, Kingsley had welcomed him into the room. George trusted Kingsley more than most people he knew – he was a brilliant man, and one of the best Ministers that had ever lead the Ministry.

Ron entered and politely greeted Robards and Shacklebolt, and took his place beside Harry and George, and the next person to arrive in the conference room was none other than Lucius Malfoy. He glided into the room, and took his place further down the table. He was the same as George remembered – long, silver hair, sharp eyes and alabaster skin. He did not, however, carry the same aura of nobility and superiority that he had held close for so many years. There were more lines etched into his skin – he looked old. He must be at least fifty, if not older, George thought, but he knew that they were not age lines. They were lines of worry.

The last people to enter the room was a witch and a wizard. The witch was probably in her thirties, with dark brown hair pulled back into a slick ponytail which almost met her waist. She had sharp gold eyes which reminded George of a predator, and ochre skin.

The wizard beside her could not have been any different. He had gold, silky hair which reached to his shoulders, and huge blue-grey eyes. He wore a silver shirt and a lilac pinstripe suit, green snake skin boots and white leather gloves. He had large ornaments hanging from around his neck, a collection of seemingly random rings on his fingers, and unusually long nails. He reminded George of the similarly odd Xenophilius Lovegood.

"Ah, hello Adriana," Kingsley said warmly, "And Sabazius, what a pleasant surprise!"

Adriana managed a polite smile, holding it only for a moment before sitting down. Sabazius grinned and said loudly, "How nice to see you, Minister! I'm afraid Rathbone couldn't make it today, so I came along instead." From the way Adriana ignored the strange man, Sabazius, she would have probably preferred that Rathbone had indeed been able to make it.

Sabazius stumbled a little when he took his place at the table, and Kingsley said, "Time for introductions, I believe. I'll just go round the table quickly – today, we have with us Mr. Gawain Robards, Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Mr. George Weasley; Mr. Lucius Malfoy; Mr. Sabazius Finkle and Miss Adriana Scrimgeour from the Department of Mysteries. Thank you, everybody, for coming to this important meeting…"

George blinked and stared at the woman sitting across from him. Adriana Scrimgeour – had he heard right? Was she related to Rufus Scrimgeour? It seemed an odd coincidence.

"…all should know, Augustus Rookwood." Kingsley's ever-present smile faded, and he said gravely, "We all know the sort of damage people like Rookwood cause to our community. Today is hopefully one of the few meetings we will have to hold concerning Rookwood, as I know Mr. Robards will be working his Aurors hard to find this Undesirable man."

Gawain nodded, as though it was all too easy.

Kingsley turned to Harry. "I have read through your report, Mr. Potter – and I find it more than a little disturbing."

"I'm also concerned, Mr. Potter," Adriana said, obviously not a woman who would let a thought slip by without having it heard. "What possible reason could Rookwood have for harming the young Miss Malfoy?"

Lucius' head snapped around, staring at the sharp-eyed woman. She kept on talking, ignoring his stare. "I don't mean to pry, but what could he gain from doing such a thing? As far as we know, she's not even alive."

When nobody replied, George cleared his throat. The sharp gold eyes locked on him as he began to speak. "I can vouch for the fact that she's alive."

"Because of some dream you had?" Adriana said in a slightly sceptical voice. She sounded like Hermione. All logic. "I hardly doubt that we can base our investigations on –"

"Mr. Weasley is not a dreamer," the strange man, Sabazius, interrupted, earning himself another glare from Adriana. "He is a Seer. There is a distinct difference. A dream is a mess of memories and emotions, taken from the mind. A vision is different. It's real." He looked up and down the table, big eyes looking like the crystal balls he probably spent half of his time staring into. "If Mr. Weasley saw Aurelia alive, then she is alive."

"He is not a qualified, registered Seer," said Gawain Robards, also a little sceptically. "I know it's a totally different part of the report – we're going to have to find him anyway, because he's a killer – but we can't be sure that he is the reason for Miss Malfoy's disappearance. If we can't find her, then it's going back to Missing Person's."

George shook his head, and felt Sabazius smiling at him as he said, "She's alive. And we're going to find her."


	15. Chapter 15

SORRY this was a bit delayed. Been so busy with Christmas and family gatherings - but here it is, it's here, it's getting better :D

Thanks for reading!

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Fifteen_

There were a few discussions about sightings of Rookwood, about the locations he visited and the places he lived. George knew it was mostly guesswork, but what did they have to go off?

Fortunately, most of the other people in the conference agreed that it was pointless pretending they knew anything else – they only had what was in the file and there wasn't much. They had alarms set up at all the locations, in case he should decide to get reminiscent – but the chances were less than likely.

So they talked, instead, about the Prophecies – what George had really been interested in.

It was Adriana Scrimgeour who brought up the Prophecies. She was remarkably frightening, for such a pretty young woman, and George felt that she must have been related to Rufus quite closely. She had a short temper, clever mind and a take-no-prisoners attitude. She held her chin high as she spoke, confident and sure.

"Our records show that Rookwood was an Unspeakable for ten years both before and during the First Wizarding War. It can be safely assumed that he was relaying information to the Dark Lord himself during this time." She glanced towards Lucius, who was watching her carefully, sceptically.

She went on, moving her eyes away from him. "Rookwood worked in Mysteries, administering and studying the Death Wall. These experiments and observations are top secret and are unavailable for us to study – however, he did come in contact with a great number of Prophecies, and our records show that there was a Prophecy with Rookwood's name on it."

"Where is that now?" Harry asked.

"It's not there," Adriana replied simply. "It was not destroyed in your little crusade through the Department of Mysteries in 1995 – it had already gone before then. Rookwood took it from the shelf."

"So there was a Prophecy about Rookwood?" Gawain Robards asked, fingertips touching his beard. "Do we have any idea what it was about?"

Adriana shook her head. "The Seer who prophesised it doesn't remember a thing. It's quite common for that to happen."

There was a heavy silence. They'd come to another dead end. Unless…

"Are there any other Prophecies?" asked Ron, asking the question before George could. They were both on the same wavelength.

Adriana shot him a glance. "About Rookwood?"

"Or about Aurelia," Lucius said quietly. "There is one in there about her. There was." His words were directed at Harry and Ron, who had unfortunately destroyed quite a few of the prophecies in their 'crusade', as Adriana so kindly put it.

"Can we see if it's still there?" Ron asked.

"Possibly," Adriana said.

George was frowning. There was something else weighing down on his mind. "What about me and Fred?"

"What about you and Fred?" Adriana asked, staring at him intently. She was nothing short of severe. She was almost like Professor McGonagall – sort of kind and fair, yes slightly lacking the kind.

"Well," George said, not sure of what to say, "Rookwood killed Fred. Either accidentally, or on purpose, I can never be sure… but he tried to kill me. Right after I had the premonition. It seemed at odd coincidence that I have a sudden vision about Rookwood and then he sends somebody to kill me."

_Tabitha._

The name struck a painful chord in George's chest. She was dead because of him.

Sabazius made a small thinking sound, a muffled mumble – George couldn't be sure if he said anything or not – and then he said, "It seems as though the forces of the universe were calling you to save your fellow wizard."

Adriana properly rolled her eyes at him this time. For somebody who had obviously worked with Prophecies before, she was highly critical. George frowned at her. She caught his stare, before turning to the Minister and Robards, saying, "If you really think it would be worth going to have a look at the Prophecies – if they're there at all – then I'm sure it could be arranged."

Kingsley shrugged. "I'm sure it can't hurt. Unless anybody else has a better idea?"

* * *

As George walked along with Sabazius, he began to like the strange old man. He was, for a Seer, very casual and easygoing. Most of George's encounters with Seers were not good experiences – he found most of them to be very snobbish about their abilities, and disdainful towards others who doubted the power of divination. Sabazius was surprisingly calm, and he joked with George and talked to him as though they were old friends. He was odd – he went on and on about strange things, talking about a ghost living in his house who liked to steal the sugar, about his cursed quill which was always hiding from him.

Adriana walked ahead of them, heels making that satisfying clicking-clacking sound on the floor, her long legs striding gracefully. She was very good looking, and would certainly be more attractive if she wasn't so frightening. George's upper lip twitched as he thought of Tabitha, and how short his attraction to her had been. He wondered what might have happened if she hadn't died – perhaps he would have spent more with her, been intrigued by her, taken her out to dinner and kissed her, fallen in love with her. Taken her to the Burrow to meet his mother, who would love her because she'd remind her of Tonks. Arthur would like her because she liked circuit boards, even though she wasn't muggle-born. They might have been married, he could have proposed to her using Fred's idea – he said he wanted to ask somebody to marry him at the Shrieking Shack, because the place needed some lightening up. They might have had lanky, freckled, hair-changing children, grown old and lived at the seaside. The possibilities were endless.

But she was dead and George didn't find the time to fall in love.

George hated his imagination. He had spent a lot of his time daydreaming about what life might be like if Fred was still alive, as well. It did nothing but make him upset.

Sabazius tugged on his sleeve, and he said, "George? What do you think?"

"Sorry, Sabazius – what did you say?"

"I asked what you think of Adriana," Sabazius asked. "I noticed you gave her quite a strange look when you found out who she was – your aura was troubled. Is she familiar to you?"

George stared at Sabazius for a moment, slightly surprised, but he replied, "Oh, well. I think she's interesting – I was surprised by her last name. I thought Rufus Scrimgeour didn't have children?"

"He didn't," Sabazius said, shaking his head, "It was sad, what happened to his wife. She was pregnant when she was killed. No, Adriana is Rufus' niece. She's really quite lovely, but…"

"She's severe," George finished. Adriana was far enough ahead of them that she couldn't hear them. "She's a lot like Rufus. She's good with authority."

"She most certainly is," Sabazius agreed. "I sometimes think she doesn't like me, but that's alright – that's just an Unspeakable thing," He gave George a cheeky grin, and he said, "She will grow to like me. Everybody does."

George chuckled. "Oh, she can't possibly resist your charms for much longer, Sabazius."


	16. Chapter 16

HEY hope you like it and I promise henceforth the story shall stop progressing and developing. Next few chapters should be climating... hahah, climatic. Ignore me!

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Sixteen_

George didn't like the Department of Mysteries. It had the sort of atmosphere that made chills run across his skin, raising goosebumps. The rows of the silver, smokey Prophecies lining the shelves seemed to watch him as he walked past them. Adriana walked ahead of him, flicking through a file of records which showed where the Prophecies were. They had rewritten the list after the Battle in the department, and though there were fewer Prophecies than there had been, there was always an ever-growing list and it was never simple trying to find what you were looking for. There were still thousands of Prophecies to look for – some of them were never found, some were never wanted. It cost money to take the Prophecy from the shelf – many people never bothered.

The sound of Adriana's heels came to a stop as she stood beside row one hundred and thirty eight. She glanced at George, and said, "It should be in this aisle."

"Is there a shelf number?" he asked.

"Shelf fifteen, number eighty seven," She looked George up and down and said, "You should be able to reach."

He gave her the same look and said, "You probably could too. You're not exactly a shortarse."

She looked at him with an indignant stare before she tipped her head towards the aisle, as if to say _go on then_.

George smiled in thanks and walked down the aisle, the shelf lined with large opaque globes, glowing in a beautiful yet unnerving way. He was about one quarter of the way along when he reached the eighties, and he stopped and stared up the shelves until he saw number fifteen. It seemed to be glowing a little more than the rest, and on the small tablet beneath the Prophecy, it said _George Weasley_.

George didn't know that there was a Prophecy about him, but when Adriana did a bit of digging and found out there was, that was the one they went to first. They didn't know if Aurelia's was still there, and Adriana would have to do a bit more research and that wouldn't get done in one afternoon, however desperate George was for information.

As George's fingertips touched the smooth, glassy surface of the Prophecy, it glowed brighter and he heard a small whispering in his ear. Startled, he jerked his hand away, and simply stood there for a moment with his hand outstretched, slightly nervous about what he was doing.

"It's okay," Adriana's voice said, carrying down the aisle. "It won't bite."

George heard a hint of humour in her voice and he stared at her slim figure standing in the dark corridor. She was actually making a joke. That was almost more surprising than the voices from the Prophecy.

Taking a small breath, George reached out and he took the Prophecy in his hand.

It felt cold when he first picked it up, but as he held onto it and he heard the mumble of incoherent voices in his ear, it began to grow warm and pulse rhythmically against his skin.

The voice cleared, and a woman began to speak, her voice echoing in George's mind, her words rushing through him like a potion through his blood, sending shivers across his skin and raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

"_Half of him shall be lost while the other half is unharmed, but he shall not live a half life. Destiny shall entwine him with darkness, and though he will not kill he shall cause the death of the one who stole from him that which means everything, both from the past and the future, and he will find the light."_

Though short, the Prophecy made George feel slightly sick as he listened to the voice. It was echoing through him, churning in his stomach and spinning around in his mind, repeating with every heartbeat.

George put the Prophecy in the small leather bag Adriana had given him and walked back towards her, mind trying to process the information.

She raised a questioning eyebrow, and asked, "Something interesting, I take it?"

"Interesting?" George repeated. "There's a word for it."

"What did it say?"

"It's – weird. It's talking about – about destiny and darkness and death and past and future." He stumbled over his words, trying to understand what it all meant.

To his surprise, he felt Adriana's cool, manicured hand resting on his arm and she said, "It's probably a bit confusing at the moment, but we can go back upstairs and figure out what it means. Don't think about it too much."

George was quiet for a moment, before saying, "Thank you, Adriana. For – you know, for everything."

She gave a very small smile, almost unnoticeable. "It's my job. What did you expect?"

"I don't know," George said with a shrug. "I thought your eyes might fall out of your head or you might spontaneously combust."

Adriana was slightly taken aback, a confused frown on her forehead.

"You know, the side effects of actually being nice to me."

She rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile showed on her lips as she removed her hand and began to walk back towards the exit. "I'm not that much of an ice queen, Mister Weasley."

"Oh, you could have fooled me," he said, grinning, "I was going to slip you a few puking pastilles or a love potion to make you lust after old Sabazius."

Adriana's face contorted slightly, and she cleared her throat. "I'll trust you wouldn't do anything so unprofessional, Mister Weasley."

"Of course not. You can trust me."

"You know, you say that so convincingly, but I'm still not convinced."

"I'm hurt."

"I can live with that."

Sabazius waited for them outside, and he had been talking to one of the Unspeakables guarding the Prophecy room about the positive effects of growing a miniature Moonlight Lily plant in the kitchen sink. According to Sabazius, it increased general happiness around the house and sometimes would do your dishes for you.

Adriana wasted no time telling Sabazius to leave the man alone, and told him they had to leave to get back to the conference, who were all currently having a short recess break. They had to figure out the prophecy. She had gone from acting a little more casually with George to being completely back to business again. George figured she wasn't frigid or cold – she was just professional. He remembered when Scrimgeour came to Bill and Fleur's wedding, and how direct and professional he had been. Adriana was the same. Work was for working.

George didn't like that, but he couldn't complain. They had little to no time to figure out this prophecy, or Aurelia's life could be in real danger – if it wasn't already.


	17. Chapter 17

Ohmygod, it only took me SIXTEEN CHAPTERS to get to an acceptable climatic scenario in the story. Christ almighty. But it was necessary, so thanks for hanging out to read this (and sorry in advance for the cliffhanger).

Also, reviews are extremely helpful. I actually listen to what you say cause this isn't pre-written, I'm just making shit up as I go along. So review and let your opinion be heard!

READ ON, RAPSCALLIONS.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Seventeen_**  
**

George felt sick. He'd had to listen to that Prophecy over and over again, making sure that they had it copied down properly. The voice of the Prophecy began to make him cringe, and when Sabazius noticed it was becoming near unbearable for him he said he should stop – Prophecies sometimes made people feel unwell. They were extremely powerful objects.

The conference had gathered again after the short break and had begun to take the Prophecy to pieces and asked George questions he wasn't sure he knew the answer to. Sabazius was very careful with his questions, and they were often very odd – he asked about birthdays and the shop – whereas Gawain and Adriana were less sensitive about the questions they asked, shooting inquiries about his life, the people he had been in conflict with, the people he had killed, the people who had tried to kill him. It took a lot of self control for George not to lunge across the table and attack Adriana – she had been so casual and actually been nice to him before, talked to him like a human. As soon as she had walked back into the conference room, she began to second guess everything he said and ask questions about his answers, using a tone of voice that made George's teeth grind together. It was infuriating.

Then, Lucius asked a question. George couldn't remember him having spoken before – at least, not directly to him. He said in a calm, collected voice, "Mister Weasley, I'd like you to outline the connections between yourself and my daughter."

George blinked. "Oh. Well, um – she's…" _She's not your daughter, Lucius… _"She went to Hogwarts, I suppose at the same time I did, for a few years at least. And – and I tried to help her during the Battle. I was the last person to see her. I – I spoke with Mrs. Malfoy in Diagon Alley, and helped her to put up the posters of Aurelia, and it was shortly after that I had the premonition. I guess our main connection is Hogwarts and – and Rookwood."

Lucius' eyes narrowed slightly as he digested what George had said. "So you have never met my daughter before, never spoken with her, you have had nothing to do with her before now?"

George paused, before nodding slowly. "Yes. I guess that's what I'm saying."

"Why was it you who saw the premonition, then?" Lucius asked. "Why wasn't it my wife, or my son, somebody who has been looking for her all this time?" To George's surprise, his eyes shimmered with angry tears. "Why didn't you see what was happening earlier if you have a magical link to my daughter's wellbeing?"

George realised then that Lucius loved Aurelia – he didn't know she wasn't his daughter. He loved her as he would love any other child and he had done everything he could to protect them, even if he had been under the control of Voldemort. He was not a bad father, and he was not a bad man – he was just a man who bad things had happened to. He wasn't what George thought he was. He wasn't like Rookwood.

George calculated his words carefully, and he said, "I understand why you're upset, Mr. Malfoy – honestly, if I had any control over my premonitions I would do everything in my power to find her. But I can't, and I can only do so much. We can only work with what we've got – I'm just trying to help."

Lucius' steel grey eyes held George's gaze for a moment before they moved to stare at the wall again. Sabazius was frowning curiously in his direction, and Adriana simply raised her eyebrows.

Harry broke the heavy silence by saying, "From what you've told us, Rookwood came looking for you – is that right?"

"Yes," George replied. "He sent – he sent one of my friends to kill me."

"And then killed her when his plan failed."

"He – yes."

Gawain leaned forward and leaned both of his arms on the table before he spoke. It was something George noticed him doing whenever he was about to say something important – or at least, when Gawain thought it was. "Does Rookwood know that Fred was your twin brother?"

"Excuse me?"

Gawain seemed to shrug as he said, "Well, I've been thinking about that Prophecy, and it says that you will be the cause of his death, and maybe Rookwood had something in his Prophecy that said the same thing. Maybe Rookwood is trying to kill you because he thinks you're going to kill him, and it's got nothing to do with Aurelia. That's just an unlucky coincidence."

"But it says I'm not going to kill him," George replied, glancing at the Prophecy, before grabbing the piece of parchment he had written the words out on. "See here, it says _though he will not kill he shall cause the death_…"

"You want to kill him, though, don't you?" Ron asked suddenly. "I mean, I'd want to kill him."

"Killing's against the law, Ronald," said Kingsley with a small smile.

"I'm not alone," said Ron, voice rising in defence. "I bet there's hundreds of people out there who want Rookwood dead. He's too afraid to leave the house because he thinks someone will kill him."

"Maybe that's what it means, then," Sabazius said, grabbing the parchment off George. "Because of you, Rookwood is now Undesirable Number One. Somebody might kill him."

"You missed what I said before – Rookwood may have killed Fred because of the Prophecy," Gawain said. "He didn't know which twin it was."

"He mightn't have known anything in the first place," said Adriana.

"It says _destiny shall entwine him with darkness_. Obviously, he's meant to have something to do with all of this."

"If Rookwood was after George, why has he taken Aurelia?"

"At the moment, we have to forget about Aurelia."

"Nobody will be forgetting, Mister Robards, about my daughter—"

"If we could just find—"

"—try to think about—"

"—investigate whether there might be—"

"—linked to the Dark Lord—"

"—never found the girl—"

"—Prophecy—"

"—have to—"

"—find—"

George felt a stabbing pain in his mind and for a moment he thought it was just the noises and the arguing that had surrounded him. But when he tried to speak his tongue felt heavy and his head began to spin, his vision blurring and then everything went black.

* * *

The next thing George saw was Diagon Alley, the snow-covered scene drained of colour in his mind. He felt dizzy as he stared around, and when he tried to move he found his legs to be slow and useless. It felt like a bad dream.

There were a few people around, but it wasn't particularly busy. It was just the usual weekday crowd.

He had no control of his actions as he began to look around, his vision swaying and blurring. There, the marks in the path, the footsteps – footsteps leading up the Alley towards Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. There were so many footsteps in the snow but it was these ones that George followed towards the shop. His eyes focused on the figure outside of the shop – dark eyes flashed in the reflection of the shop, and the man turned around as though he knew somebody was there.

George felt his blood run cold, but Rookwood didn't see him. He was invisible to him.

A muted sound rang in George's ears, and he heard the Gringott's clock chime twelve…

With a sensation not unlike being hit with a bludger, George was wrenched away from the scene and a bright light flashed in his eyes.

* * *

It was over almost as soon as it had started. George's eyes snapped open and he tried to sit up but careful hands held him down and he looked up from the floor into Adriana's eyes, as she looked at him with a horrified expression. Harry was holding him down and George's frantic eyes saw Ron standing behind him.

Harry's hands on his shoulders squeezed slightly and he said, "George, are you okay?" He didn't sound nearly as frightened as he looked, wide eyes magnified behind his round glasses.

George took deep breaths, and he said, "What – what happened?"

"You sort of had a fit," Harry said. Helping him to his feet, Harry sat him down only to have George leap up again and cry out.

Ron nearly hit the roof as George yelled, and he hollered back, "Merlin's balls, what's _wrong_ with you, George?"

George stared back at him with a pale face and frantic eyes. "Rookwood – he's – he's at the shop!"

"What?" chorused a number of voices around the room.

George stumbled over his words, trying to speak coherently. "Rookwood is at my shop, he was standing right outside."

"What, now?" Adriana asked with a worried frown.

"Yes, now, we have to go!"

"Did you see him there?" asked Harry.

"Yes, he's there, and we have to –"

"How do we know what you saw is true?" Gawain asked, shaking his head in confusion.

"And how do we know that it's not?" Ron said determinedly. "I don't care if you lot decide to stay – I'm going."

George was almost glowing as he heard his brother say those words, and he took Harry and Ron's sleeves and apparated to Diagon Alley.

Landing in the shop a second later, George whirled around in the aisle, and standing at the bottom of the stairs was Augustus Rookwood.


	18. Chapter 18

I'd like to formally apologise for the lateness of this chapter. As you know, it's Christmas as it's really quite busy and for some reason everybody in my family tree seems to have their birthdays in December as well and I've got another baby cousin who was born last week, just in time for Christmas so I've been quite stretched with life in general, without even making time to think about what I would write. So when I eventually sat down to write, I got a bit of writer's block and I hate this chapter, because I know I could have written it better. But it's here, it's on time, and it doesn't matter because it's just one chapter in a bazillion (which is approximately the amount of chapters I'll have written by the time I'm done).

So enjoy, sorry it's late, and MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Much love from sabrestar :)

oh btw,** reviews help me write better**.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Eighteen_**  
**

Rookwood's eyes narrowed as they focused on George, and he flashed sharp teeth in his direction. "Hello there, Weasley," Rookwood said, his rasping voice making George's blood run cold. "Come out to play?"

His hair was matted and his face unshaven, his skin was scabby and dirty. He looked every part the Death Eater he ever was, but the only thing George remembered was his eyes. They were so dark, so poisonous – they made him feel more scared and more angry than he could ever remember.

"I've got no time for games, Rookwood," George said, taking a step forward and tightening his grip on his wand. "I should kill you."

"You wouldn't," Rookwood snarled. "You haven't got it in you."

George heard Harry and Ron move behind him but he didn't turn towards them. He knew that either one of them could cast a spell and Rookwood would be lying dead on the floor – but they needed him to lead them to Aurelia. Only he knew where she was and only he could take down the protective wards that he had undoubtedly placed around the area.

George managed a half-smile, and he said, "Oh yeah? You want to test out that theory, do you?"

Rookwood took a few small steps backwards. "Keep the fuck away from me, Weasley," he spat.

"You know I'm going to be the end of you, Rookwood," George hissed, watching Rookwood's eyes widen as he spoke. "You shouldn't make it more difficult than it has to be."

Rookwood raised his wand and George flicked his, shouting "_Expelliarmus!_"

His wand flew across the room, and Ron's hand reached out and caught it. Rookwood snarled at them, but he didn't move. Going upstairs would be pointless, and he knew he'd only get caught.

There was a loud crack outside and George knew that the others had arrived. "You can't do anything," he said, "Give up, and maybe I'll delay that prophecy a little while longer."

"Stupid boy," Rookwood hissed, "You just don't get it. You can't kill me because you're weak. It's the same reason your brother is dead."

Ron's face turned a nasty shade of purple as he roared, "Don't you talk about Fred! Don't you dare talk about him!"

George felt his blood pump faster as the anger coursed through him, and the edges of his vision became hazy. He heard Harry saying something, and a hand on his arm, but he wrenched away and pointed his wand at Rookwood and he could taste the words on his tongue…

But then something very strange happened. There was a hush, and a strange sensation overcame him – not unlike being surrounded by whispers. He felt his hair rise up, goosebumps formed on his skin and he felt a shiver crawling through his nerves.

And the words that left his mouth were not his, but Fred's.

"_Stupefy!_"

Rookwood fell to the floor as the spell shot from the end of George's wand. There was a moment of silence and George heard Ron's voice say quietly, "Blimey, George. I thought you were about to kill him."

George let out a breath he had been holding before saying shakily, "Yeah. I thought so too."

As Harry and Ron walked over to Rookwood's unconscious body, George turned and found himself looking at Lucius Malfoy and Adriana. Lucius glanced at George briefly, before giving him a brisk nod and disapparating – probably back to the ministry.

Adriana stared at the empty space beside her, and then back to George. "He's not very good at gratitude."

She wasn't apologising for him – the way she said it, George wondered whether she was bitter about Lucius and his lack of manners. For such a gentleman, he was certainly very rude.

George grimaced. "He will be when I find his daughter for him."

As he made his way towards the stairs, Adriana grasped onto his sleeve and she said, "George, please don't think me cruel for saying this – but promise me you won't hate yourself if it's too late for Aurelia."

George paused to frown at her, before saying, "I won't hate myself. I'll find her."

* * *

George watched Rookwood's unconscious body in the temporary cell he was staying in at the ministry until they could move him to Azkaban. The minister was trying to arrange passage – it wasn't so easy as simply apparating. George didn't understand how it worked.

Rookwood's face was not half so scary when he was sleeping. He looked old. George hadn't meant to stay for very long, he was only passing through. Harry was busy trying to convince Gawain Robards to interrogate Rookwood while he was here, so they could find Aurelia, but Robards was still not entirely convinced that Rookwood was the reason for her disappearance.

George had time to kill. He'd come down to see, out of pure curiosity, where they were keeping him. Robards had sent Ron down with him but he'd wandered off, complaining of an empty stomach. George hadn't eaten for a while either but he wasn't hungry, unlike his brother who often acted like a black hole, shovelling food into his mouth.

The cell wasn't dark or dreary. The walls were plain white and shone with more protective charms than George could name. There was nothing but magic separating Rookwood from the corridor, from the outside world, but without a wand he was trapped and would be struck down if he attempted to go near the wards.

Rookwood's face twitched and his body moved slightly where he lay, but he did not wake up. George watched him, mouth set in a tight line, neck tense as he stared at the former Death Eater, the criminal, the murderer. He clenched tightly on his wand in his pocket, knuckles turning white as he did so, hand shaking. He wanted so badly to take out his wand and cast that one spell, the one he knew would end everything. It would only be fair.

But he heard Fred's voice echo through his head again, and then he felt a cold hand on his.

Almost hitting the roof, George bit his lip to refrain from cursing aloud as he saw it was only Adriana. She looked a little shocked at the movement, eyes widening as she stepped backwards.

"Merlin," George breathed. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I was hardly –" Adriana began, but she simply rolled her eyes and didn't argue. "I was coming to see what was going on. Why is Ron in the cafeteria?"

"Because he's a greedy pig," George replied.

"What are you still doing down here?" Adriana asked, glancing at the comatose man in the cell. "You shouldn't be here."

"I was just… looking." George knew his response sounded pathetic but he couldn't help it. That's all he was doing. He was watching carefully, thinking less carefully, and his mind was wandering back to the clearest memories he had of Rookwood, when the green light shot from his wand and killed Fred, when he'd killed Tabitha. Why were all of George's clearest memories full of green light?

Shaking the hair from his eyes, George cleared his throat and said, "I should probably be getting back upstairs, I suppose."

Adriana nodded.

They turned to leave when they heard a scratching cough from the cell. George spun and saw that Rookwood's eyes had opened, and though no other part of him had moved he watched them carefully with his cursed eyes.

"Got me good, didn't'ya, Weasley?" Rookwood said in his hissing voice. "Wanna take another shot?"

"Don't tempt me," George growled, stepping back towards the cell.

Rookwood propped himself up on his elbows, staring at George beneath strands of matted hair. "I can tempt all I want. You won't touch me."

"You deserve to die," George said, upper lip curled in an angry snarl. "You're a murderer."

Rookwood laughed bitterly. "Oh, still feeling a bit touchy about that run in with your brother, Weasley?"

Before George could stop himself, he heard the words tear from his throat. "I'LL KILL YOU, ROOKWOOD! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

He felt Adriana's hands tugging on his cloak, pulling him backwards. She was speaking but he couldn't hear what she was saying.

He could only listen to Rookwood's poisonous words cutting through him like knives and felt himself being pulled away by Adriana's surprisingly firm grip on his sleeve.


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks for reading lovelies, I hope you're having a wonderful christmas :) I've had a few drinks so I think I'd better stop writing before it gets too weird. I've already written half of the next chapter but I think I need my sleep. All this festivity is making me tired.

Please review, they give me warm fuzzy feelings.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Nineteen_**  
**

It began to snow again as George was waking up. It was Thursday – it had nearly been a week since he'd met Tabitha. So much had happened in such a short space of time. He'd forgotten the cold rush of danger, the fear that struck pins and needles in his heart.

It was Tabitha's funeral tomorrow. George had been asked to attend, but he didn't feel like going. He hardly knew her, and he didn't know any of her friends or family – and he was the reason she was dead. Simply because he'd liked her, talked to her once, thought about her for twenty four hours straight, and Rookwood had taken advantage of her, killed her, ruined everything. Tabitha was not going to be a wand maker any more, she wasn't going to travel and she most certainly would never see the Weird Sisters live again.

George squeezed his eyes shut and gripped his sheets, wishing himself away.

That hopeful moment didn't last as he heard somebody call his name downstairs, making his heart leap into his throat from the initial shock before he remembered that somebody was coming to collect him to take him to the Ministry. Annoyingly, Harry had ordered a guardian for George wherever he want as a precaution, just in case Rookwood was in partnership with one of the other missing Death Eaters. George had just about had it with being told what to do by strangers, and he had a gut feeling that Ginny had asked Harry to protect George. George wanted to hit her. He didn't like being treated like a child.

"Mr. Weasley," a woman's voice called up the stairs, "Are you awake?"

George grumbled something into his pillow and rolled over, twisting the sheets around his body as he pressed his face to the pillow. He didn't want to wake up. He just wanted to sleep for a very, very long time.

He heard heels clicking and clacking up the stairs towards his room, and a sharp rap on his door. "George?"

"Mmmmph."

The door creaked open and the heels were muffled by the carpet. George felt a shadow cross his face, and he peeked out of one eye and saw Adriana.

"Go away."

Adriana frowned, but George had turned over again. "Don't be stupid, George," she said, "You were supposed to be up hours ago. Why isn't the shop open?"

"Cause I'm on holiday," George mumbled. "Relaxing, getting in touch with my inner wanker. That sort of thing."

"Well, tell your inner wanker to wake up," Adriana said, and George could almost hear her smiling. "We're interrogating Rookwood today."

George slowly turned over again, red hair spread across the pillow and over his eyes. "Are they really?" he asked quietly.

Adriana nodded. George noticed how nice she looked today, especially with the sunlight pouring in from the window behind her, outlining her curved silhouette and her hair a radiant glow. It wasn't tied up today, and there was a strand hanging across her face.

George blinked, and stared at her strangely. "You look… different. Younger."

"Compliment not registered until you get out of bed," Adriana said with a small smile, before she waved her wand and all of George's covers threw themselves from his body, leaving him shivering on his mattress in his shirt and striped pyjama pants.

"Hurry up."

"Geez, witch. Give a man a chance."

Adriana's eyes flashed a warning and she said, "It's ten o'clock. I've been waiting for you to wake up for three hours. _Hurry up_."

* * *

Half an hour later, after George had showered and dressed, he walked downstairs and found the store empty. Frowning at Adriana's absence, George checked the store room and outside the shop, glancing past the somewhat depressing 'closed' sign on the door to the snowy alley outside, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

George wandered back upstairs, and he the tap turn on in the kitchen. Turning the corner, he found Adriana standing by the sink, washing out a cup that she'd been using.

"Make yourself at home," George said dryly, and Adriana turned around.

"Cool, thanks," she said nonchalantly. "Ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," he replied. George was wearing his brown pinstripe suit and red shirt. "You?"

Adriana nodded, drying her hands on a tea towel. "Okay then, let's go."

As she reached out for George's hand for him to side-apparate, George very nearly flinched. She had very smooth skin. The friction was strange. It had been a very long time since he'd touched anybody.

Adriana didn't seem to notice, and she apparated them to the Ministry.

* * *

"So where do we have to go?" George asked. The main corridor of the ministry was blissfully empty, as it wasn't rush hour. There were still a fair few people coming and going, but at least it wasn't the usual masses of people that were there at the start and end of the day.

"The interrogation chambers," Adriana replied, walking briskly to catch an elevator. "It's in the Auror's department, and it's overseen by a few members of the Wizenagamot. Luckily for us, it's not a public investigation just yet, as Mr. Malfoy has paid for it to stay private –"

"What, Malfoy is paying for the investigation?"

"Of course – private investigations are always much quicker. As long as they are necessary, of course," she went on. "This investigation was a matter of life and death, so to speak, so it was made a priority."

George pondered this piece of information. Nobody had told him that.

"But I filed the report," George said. "I didn't think –"

"Well of course, but Lucius paid to make sure the best people were on the case," she said, rolling her eyes as though she were speaking to a child. "It's not that uncommon, especially with Lucius."

They stepped into the large elevator, and Adriana told the operator where they wanted to be. Department of Magical Law Enforcement, lower second.

"Has he hired investigators before?"

"Many times, and all for the same reason," Adriana said grimly. George didn't need to ask to know she was talking about Aurelia.

The cage doors shut and the elevator jolted uncomfortably as they began their short journey to the investigation chambers.


	20. Chapter 20

I cannot say how sorry I am that I didn't update sooner... despite having a number of relatives visit us over the holidays, I went to see my grandmother (unfortunately, out of internet range) and also had to babysit my cousin whose little brother is in hospital. And after all that I had a writing block. So life was sucky but it's here now and my momentum has started again!

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty_**  
**

The investigation chambers were huge, large enough to fit hundreds of people, but there were only little over a dozen there. Harry, Ron and Gawain Robards were present from the Auror's office and even Kingsley had managed to find time to come along to this hearing… investigation… whatever it was. George wasn't entirely sure.

They sat in a section on the left side of the room, and on the other side sat four other people George didn't recognise – the representatives from the Wizenagamot. There were three wizards and one witch sitting there, all wearing the same deep red robes that distinguished them as Wizenagamot members. They were here to do the questioning and determine whether to administer Veritaserum. There were a few other wizards in the room, looking almost like body guards. Rookwood was not there, but there was a caged section in the middle of the room where George assumed he would be.

Then, sitting further up the back of the seats were the Malfoys.

"You have to sit up there with them," Adriana said quietly. "Only Aurors and investigators are sitting in the front rows."

George suddenly felt slightly out of place in his pinstripe suit as he looked at the Malfoys. Lucius was wearing what looked like his best robes, the cloak settling around his shoulders like it was made perfectly for him and him alone, and it probably was. His long blonde hair was pulled back from his face, a white gloved hand holding onto Narcissa's own thin, frail hand. Narcissa was wearing a long black dress and a simple charcoal-grey jacket, her own hair pulled back in a tight bun. She looked worn, and tired. Draco wore sharp black trousers and a grey shirt, a thin black tie tight around his slim neck, sleek hair combed back from his face. George glanced at his own messy hair, still getting in his eyes. He needed a haircut.

As he made his way up to the back bench, he received an attempted smile from Draco, but it twitched and did not last very long. Narcissa smiled at him sadly, and Lucius gave him a curt nod. George grimaced and returned the nod, and then sat beside Draco.

It wasn't too long before Rookwood was dragged into the chamber, in a near-comatose state, clearly under some sort of depressant to stop him from struggling. He was, after all, Undesirable Number One. He looked just as ragged and unclean as he did the last time George had seen him, and he clenched his fists as he remembered their conversation. Draco glanced at him sideways and George turned away, trying to disguise his anger.

The man with the biggest hat in the Wizenagamot cleared his throat and said in a very steady, calm voice, "Let it be written on this day the Undesirable Augustus Rookwood was brought before the chambers to answer the questions of the Wizenagamot and the members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

One of the Wizenagamot witches pointed her wand at a Quick-Quotes quill which scribbled away every word that was written. Rookwood glared at the woman and twitched as the scritch-scratch sound echoed around the chamber.

The wizard opened his mouth to speak again, but the door creaked open and his eyes glanced at the door, and George's followed – who he saw enter brought a number of conflicting emotions from him. The woman with her start blonde curly hair, her glasses perched on the end of a small nose and her red lipstick-lips casting a sugary smile across the room as she waltzed into the room with her cherry-red and black robes.

Rita Skeeter.

"Who said she could be here," Draco hissed, "She has no right."

"She has every right, Draco," Lucius replied in a low voice. "She's the official criminal reporter for the Daily Prophet, after she had her column taken off her."

George frowned. He was curious as to why she'd lost her column, but he was more interested as to why his father had entered the chambers directly after Rita Skeeter. Arthur Weasley nodded politely to the Wizenagamot members and made his way up the chamber seats to where George sat with the Malfoys.

"Hello George," he said with a smile, before looking to the Malfoys. "Hello, Draco – Mister and Missus Malfoy, good to see you."

"Probably not the time for a casual chat, Dad," George whispered, but Arthur simply smiled as he sat down next to him. George saw Lucius shift in his seat but he did not move away.

"That is what I had in mind," Arthur said, taking off his hat as he put down his bags. "But I didn't know you'd be here – they're starting, I'll explain later –"

George frowned, confused – what was so important that Arthur had taken the day off work to find him? It was unusual, but George could worry about it later. He had to pay attention to Rookwood, for now.

The Wizenagamot member spoke again, in his very calm voice, "Mister Rookwood, do you understand that under ministerial interrogatory act number seven, you are –"

"Of course I understand that," Rookwood spat, "I worked here for twenty years, didn't I?"

The interrogator's mouth was set in a thin line, not impressed by the interruption. "Very well. In that case, we shall begin." He brought a piece of parchment to the desk in front of him, lifting it so he could see the words clearly through his spectacles. "You have been called here today to give us information regarding the missing persons case number one thousand, two hundred and eighty-four, a Miss Aurelia Malfoy…" He glanced at Rookwood. "If you do provide information that helps with the discovery of Miss Malfoy's whereabouts, we may take it into consideration in your criminal trial."

Rookwood laughed, genuinely amused by the idea. "I doubt anything I tell you will change your mind about me."

"You never know, Mister Rookwood," said Gawain Robards, casually turning over a spare knut in his fingers as he observed the interrogation. George had almost forgotten that the Aurors were allowed to interrogate Rookwood, too.

Rookwood sneered at the Head Auror, saying, "You'd know all about criminal trial, wouldn't you, Gawain?"

Gawain seemed to clench his teeth when the member of the Wizenagamot said, "Enough of that, Mister Rookwood. You are not here to be a nuisance."

Rookwood slowly turned to face the wizard again, before smiling wickedly and saying, "MY apologies, Jefferson."

The wizard Jefferson's eyebrows lowered slightly as Rookwood spoke his name, but he continued on. "I'll have you answer the questions, Rookwood, for your own good. Do you know the whereabouts of Miss Malfoy?"

Rookwood did not reply, instead choosing to stare around the room, glaring at every person in the front few rows. His insistent glaring did nothing to shake Adriana, who simply returned the gesture with an even icier glare. George was sure if he was on the receiving end of that stare he'd gladly shrivel up and die, but Rookwood's lips only twitched in a humoured way.

"Mister Rookwood, please answer the question."

Rookwood did not look at Jefferson, but he said to him, "What would it be worth if I did?"

"It wouldn't make your situation any worse," Adriana said, her voice tight, as though somebody had gripped her throat. She was angry, George could see it from here. Kingsley nudged her with an elbow, almost to snap her out of it, and she glanced at him, almost in surprise.

"Rookwood," Jefferson said, becoming impatient, "If you do not tell us then we will be forced to administer Veritaserum. If you know nothing and are wasting our time, then let us know, and we shall send you to Azkaban."

Rookwood seemed to laugh beneath his breath, sounding like a small muffled cough, and his broken teeth showed through his lips as he stared up at the Wizenagamot. "You know that nothing you can do to me is half as bad as what they'll do to me."

Jefferson frowned, and George saw Adriana lean forward in her seat. "What do you mean? Who is 'they'?" Jefferson asked, watching Rookwood closely.

"The others," Rookwood said, his breaths becoming erratic. "The ones left over. They're – they will wait for me."

George heard Lucius draw a hissing breath, and he glanced sideways at him. Narcissa's grip on his hand had suddenly become white-knuckled. Draco had paled and he met George's eyes with his own, and George suddenly felt quite afraid.

"We will make sure that they won't," Kingsley said, catching Rookwood's eye. "We are the only organisation in this world who can give punishment. We'll stop anybody who thinks otherwise."

Rookwood stared at the Minister with his dark eyes, but for once he did not appear crazed. He almost looked scared, but of what George was unsure – whether he was scared of whoever was coming after him, or scared of wanting to trust Kingsley and the Ministry.

"Where is Miss Malfoy?" Jefferson asked again, "And trust that we can keep you safe, Mister Rookwood."

Rookwood was almost shaking by the time he replied, and George knew that everybody was on the edge of their seats as he said in a rasping voice, "I know where she is – I was the one who took her to them. The Lestranges – Rodolphus is keeping her at their estate."

George felt an icy fear grip his heart but then Robards stood up and he said, "I have conducted a personal investigation of the Lestranges myself, and I can say that there is no Lestrange Estate –"

"No," Rookwood said, "No, you're wrong, he's living in the south of Wales, they were impersonating a muggle couple who they killed during the first war – it's only Rodolphus now, but I've been staying there along with the others…"

"Former Death Eaters, you mean?" asked Harry, adjusting his glasses.

"Not former," Rookwood hissed, "They are still the Death Eaters they were, down to the last scar."

"And Aurelia is there?" asked Shacklebolt.

Rookwood nodded slowly. "She's there. And she's alive."

* * *

The Auror's office was a blur as the mingling crowd of Ministers, Aurors and Law Enforcers alike tried to arrange themselves, tried to figure out what exactly they were going to do. The conference room was a mess of hastily drawn plans, sketches on a blackboard about what they were going to do. It had barely been ten minutes and Ron had already found the plans of the estate, and they had roughly figured out where the wards would be, and what would be the best way to penetrate the mansion on the property, and where it was most likely that they would be keeping Aurelia. They also had to take into account the number of Death Eaters who were residing in the house – they knew for certain that Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback were present in the house – Rookwood said that others came and went, such as Yaxley, Nott, Dolohov and Rowle. They were not permanent residents of the Estate.

George watched as the Aurors and the Unspeakables tried to get along, and as Lucius fought with Adriana and Gawain, pleading them to let him go with them. Draco stood behind him, obviously hoping to be accepted into the party as well. George watched closely as Adriana tried to reason with them.

"Please, Miss Scrimgeour, you must let us accompany you," Lucius said, voice strained as he tried to not appear too desperate. "Our expertise in the field –"

"Will only make you a danger to yourselves and others around you," Adriana interrupted. "We are quite capable and if you trust us as much as you say you do, then you know we will bring your daughter home safely."

Lucius blinked, before he nodded and stepped away, walking outside to where Narcissa was waiting. As they brushed past George where he stood by the door, Draco's hand shot out and latched onto George's sleeve and he hissed in his ear, "Go with them. In our place." His silver eyes were wide and frightened. "I don't trust them. But I trust you."

George stared at him in surprise, before shaking himself out of it. "Oh – um, yeah, I'll try. I was kind of planning on tagging along anyway," he added in a slightly hushed voice.

Draco tried to smile but it didn't work, and he only muttered, "Thanks," before walking out to where his parents waited.

Arthur had told George to meet him in the cafeteria when George had told him he had to go grab something he'd left in the chambers, but he diverted away from the hall and followed the crowd of investigators towards the conference room again, simply nodding politely at the lady at reception, who looked a little taken aback at his presence a few steps behind everybody else but didn't say anything. She must have just assumed that he was a part of the crowd.

Nobody really noticed George standing there, until Harry said to him, "You're not coming with us, George."

"I know. I just want to see you off," he said cheerily. "You've figured it all out – you guys are great."

Harry grinned back. "I know. It's not over yet, but it's good that we've got a lead. We're not finished till we get Aurelia."

George patted him on the shoulder, and said, "Look after yourself, mate. I'll see you in a bit."

The conversations had finally stopped and the investigators were making their way out, some of them nodding politely to George on the way out, and he smiled back happily, wishing them luck, being told they didn't need it, chuckling. He shook Ron's hand and was reassured by the fierce look in his brother's eyes, that look he always got when he was out to get someone, when he was going to finish something that shouldn't have been started in the first place.

The last one to leave was Adriana. George had been watching her closely throughout the meeting, throughout the planning, and he said to her as she was walking out of the door, "Adriana, can I talk to you a minute?"

"Really, George, there's no time –" she began, but he followed her out to where they were going – there was an emergency floo evacuation room where they would be going first to the ministry office in Wales, and then apparating to the Estate.

"It's alright, I won't take long," he said, smiling. "Really, I just wanted to talk to you about being careful – because, you know, even someone like you has to watch their back."

"Someone like me?"

"Someone good with magic and strategy," George said quickly. "Well, what I mean to say, is I really would like to see you again after this, so please don't die."

Adriana laughed. She actually, genuinely laughed, her pitch raised as smooth laughter escaped her lips. "You have such little faith in me," she said.

As George recovered from the shock of having actually made Adriana laugh, he realised that they were in the evacuation room. The last Auror stepped through the fireplace and then it was only George and Adriana, and as she moved towards the fireplace she said with a small smile, "Don't worry, George. I can take care of myself."

She reached out to grab the floo powder, and just before she threw it in the fireplace, George panicked and realised that she was about to ask him to leave. He wasn't allowed to know where they were going.

In a movement so sudden and spontaneous that he almost believed in never happened, George took Adriana's face between his hands gently and placed his lips on hers. It only lasted a fleeting moment but he felt how soft her lips were against his and he very nearly fainted. It had been a while since he'd kissed a girl.

Adriana paled for a moment before a steady blush appeared on her cheeks and she said, slightly bemusedly, "Well, then – I'd best be off."

She spoke the words, and stepped into the fire, but George didn't hear what she'd said because he latched onto her coat as she stepped forward and was pulled through the green flames with her.


	21. Chapter 21

Okay, so there is no excuse for how horrendously late this is. But, I have an excuse anyway. I've been working flat out trying to pass my final year of school. That's all I got. This is the only weekend I've had free in a long time. Not to mention I had terrible writer's block. But finally, here is the most fantastic chapter of all ever except for later on when it gets good again.

That was probably the worst cliffhanger, the last chapter. Cliffhanger with a five month break. I'm so sorry, and I love you.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty One_

George felt the cold before he felt anything else, the biting, aching cold around him. He felt his skin stinging and realised it was raining quite heavily, and then he heard a string of obscenities, turning around to see Adriana swearing at him, the rain plastering her hair to her forehead.

"You stupid git! You lousy fucking excuse of a wizard!" she shouted through the downpour, before she hit him with a blast of her wand and he found himself on the floor.

"Adriana, calm down!" George cried out.

"_Calm down_?" she repeated, throwing her arms in the air. "Calm down, he says! You're gonna lose me my job, you – you – imbecile!"

She kicked dirty puddle water in his direction and George shut his eyes before it hit him. "Okay, point taken!" He stood up, clothes dripping, and he said, "So where are we going?"

Adriana laughed angrily. "We? Oh no, there is no 'we'. You're apparating back to the ministry this instant before Kingsley finds you –"

But it was too late for that, because in the near distance Robards was waving them over, and when he laid eyes on George he began to swear as well. George couldn't hear him, but he knew a swear word when he saw one. Adriana glared at him something awful and she said, "You're gonna pay for this, Weasley."

"Like to see you try," George retorted, but in all honesty he really wished she wouldn't.

They caught up with the others and Robards said angrily, "What's he doing here?"

Adriana's lip twitched. "He followed me through the fire. I've told him to go back."

"Can't make me apparate against my own will!" George said quickly, remembering something Arthur had told him once. "Section something of something, something… you know the one."

Adriana scowled. She knew he was right, but she turned back to Robards and said, "Gawain, really, he can't be here. He's a liability."

"I have every right to be here."

Whirling around to face him, Adriana's eyes were alight with fury as she spat, "You have no right, you are endangering the entire operation, you are nothing but a nuisance and have been since the start."

George was taken aback. He'd seen Adriana pissed off, but she was furious and he was speechless. He couldn't think of anything to say.

Robards put a hand on Adriana's arm and tugged her away from George, still aghast. Walking up behind them, having heard the conversation (if that's what you'd call it), Kingsley said, "Let him stay, Adriana. He won't get in the way." He gave George a look that said something else – that said he wouldn't get in the way or there would be trouble.

Adriana was fuming but she said nothing, simply turning and walking off to where the others stood, not even looking at George as she did so.

They moved quickly, the estate not far from where they had apparated. It was perfect weather for infiltrating the property – the rain was a good cover. They should have thought of it earlier, but weather magic was particularly difficult anyway. It was a stroke of luck.

George hung at the back of the group with Kingsley walking behind him, and Gawain in the lead, followed closely by Adriana and a few other Aurors George didn't recognise. Harry and Ron walked a little ahead of him. The huge building in the distance was obviously their target – grey stone and unkempt hedges gave a less than warm welcome to the group. They had to walk quickly, because apparating would surely set off any detection charms they had set up – from what Rookwood had told them, there was an apparition ward that stretched one kilometre from the mansion, and a movement ward at five hundred meters. The plan was to move through the first five hundred meters and apparate through the second, if they could, because they could then avoid detection altogether.

For once, everything went according to plan. Robards checked the map and then cast a spell detection charm, and he saw the line where the two wards met. They stood in a close line, each moving one step at a time as they apparated towards the house.

As they stood by the rusted gates, George felt the raindrops creep beneath his collar and trail down his spine, only adding to the shivers that wracked his body. He was so nervous. The alarm should be going off by now – perhaps they had more time, and as George began to calm slightly he suddenly heard a painfully high pitched screeching sound that would have, at any other time, caused him to clap his hands over his ears and cringe. But there just wasn't time for that.

Somebody blasted the gate open and they rushed through, moving as quickly as they could, while the element of surprise was still on their side. Moving quickly, George looked around himself frantically, looking for wolves or spiders or something, anything – but what they faced was something much more terrible, and George only realised it was there when he bumped into Harry, and looked over him at what the obstruction was.

George thought it was a lion at first, but where the lion's face should have been was the face of a man. The skin of his face was scratched and dirty, his eyes thin and cat-like, his teeth long and pointed but it was a man's face nonetheless. And where his tail should have been was a long, scaled sting, like a scorpions.

"Manticore," Harry said. "This is going to be fun."

The manticore growled, and flashed sharp teeth before beginning to circle, pacing around them, scorpion tail flicking back and forth. Gawain, at the front of the group, said quietly, "Harry, Ron, I'd like it if you could take care of this little obstacle."

"Little?" Ron muttered cynically, but he stepped forward with Harry so as to face the manticore, wands at the ready.

The manticore hesitated, but his tail cracked and he said in a rasping voice, "How brave the young wizards, to face such a foe."

"Shut up, git," Ron said loudly, "At least I'm not a stupid half breed."

George winced as the manticore roared, the sound making his body tremble. Gawain began to move away as the beast was distracted, and even though he knew it would do no good, Harry threw a stunning spell at the beast, making it snarl and hiss.

They circled each other, and when the manticore was facing entirely away from the rest of them, the group quickly moved to the front of the manor. Whoever had set up that defensive system obviously had no idea that such a large group would dare infiltrate their hiding place.

The front door was locked and presumably protected by magic, but there was almost no spell that could stop an Auror or Unspeakable. If Rookwood had been the one to set it up, he would have known all of the complex ministry security spells – in theory, it should be easy to get rid of them.

It was only when Gawain pushed on the door with his wand, and it swung inwards slightly that they realised there was no spell. These leftover Death Eaters obviously did not have the security priorities that their late leader had.

As they entered the castle, there was a great moment of silence when the group of Aurors, Unspeakables and others stood very still in the large room, staring around the dirty, dusty place and waiting for something to happen. It seemed like a forever.

And then, a flash of a spell fired from a nearby corridor, and suddenly it was all a mess. George felt a great wave of déjà vu overcome him as the blur of lights and spells flashed backwards and forwards across the room, and the sharp screams, the sound of the manor walls buckling from off course curses. George immediately sought out his targets, the darkened eyes of the Lestrange brothers wide-eyed as they revelled in the battle – George just wanted it to be over.

George stood beside Adriana, fighting in tandem, shielding incoming spells from the Death Eaters as she replied with similar curses. George looked at the way she was so calm, contained – moments ago she had been screaming and throwing obscenities at him, yet in the middle of a duel she was totally in control. George, on the other hand, was breathless and panicking, trying to block spells with defensive shields he had nearly forgotten how to use. He shouldn't be here, Adriana was right.

"George," she said, voice dry, "You need to go find Aurelia."

He shook his head. "No. I can't leave you alone. Somebody else can find her."

"Look around George, the others have their hands tied. You're the only one who isn't a major threat to them."

George glanced around the room quickly, and saw she was right. While they were duelling Rodolphus and Rastaban, Robards and another Auror were busy with Fenrir Greyback, Kingsley was caught up with both Yaxley and Rowle as the unspeakable next to him was hit with a stunning curse and fell to the ground. There were at least four other Death Eaters, who were being attacked by the remaining Aurors. Harry and Ron were still nowhere to be seen.

"Go, George!" Adriana hissed. "Go now."

Not bothering to argue, George cast one last shield for Adriana before he bolted to the other side of the room, dodging curses as he went, running down the corridor the Death Eaters had emerged from.

It almost seemed too simple, to George. He ran to the end of the corridor, and walked down the stairs, assuming in all of his worldly knowledge that Aurelia would be underground. He stumbled downstairs, the walls shaking from above and dust falling on his hair and in his eyes.

The stairs led to a chamber, locked by large iron bars. George stepped up to the bars, touched the wand to the lock, but no curse threw him backwards, no wailing alarm sounded. He tapped the lock with his wand, muttered some simple curses but it did not open.

Taking a step back, he called out, "Aurelia? Are you there?"

Through the sound of yelling and crashing above, George heard the sound of a chain rattle and echo through the chamber. He felt his heart hammer and he said quickly, "Aurelia, I'm going to get you out."

The chains rattled again and George tapped the lock with his wand again, and in his frustration he growled, and rattled the iron bars.

A small clanking sound followed shortly afterwards, and the lock fell open.

Eyes wide, George looked at the lock – the small insignia of the Greyback clan was set in the iron. It was a werewolf lock – he should have seen it earlier. Bill said they were used at the bank.

George pushed the bars open and carefully stepped inside. "Aurelia? Where are you?"

A tiny whimper and rattling of chains was his only reply.

George swallowed his nervousness and he called out, "Aurelia, my name is George Weasley. I'm here with the Minister for Magic, and the Aurors – we're here to get you out."

There was no sound this time. George continued talking, glancing around with his lit wand. "Your family is at the ministry – your parents, and your brother. He asked me to take you back to them." He paused, and turned. "I'm here to bring you home."

The chains rattled again, louder this time, and George spun, walking towards the corner of the chamber. The sounds continued, and though the crashes and screams continued overhead, the manor shaking, George could hear the definite, deliberate shaking of chains.

And when he saw her, her eyes were wide, her hair was dirty, ragged, and her clothes were torn. Her skin was burned, scarred and bloody, her hands cut, one hand locked by a rusty iron manacle to the stone wall. She was tiny, thin, the bones showing through her pale, sick skin.

She shrunk away from him but he kneeled beside her and he said, "Aurelia," his voice breathy from the tightness in his chest, "You're safe now."

Sparks flew from his wand as he broke her chains, and he picked her up in his arms, watching her eyes close shut calmly for the first time in a long time. With a swift flick of his wand, George sent his patronus upstairs to tell the others he had found her, and then he disapparated.


	22. Chapter 22

Finally! Aurelia is here, and you are rewarded for being such good readers.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty Two_**  
**

When George woke up, he had a moment to himself. He had a moment of forgetting, of not knowing, of waking up completely innocent and unknowing like a child. He stared and blinked at the ceiling and glanced at the clock, and yawned. It was just another morning, he needed a shower, he needed to open the shop.

It took him a very long moment before his eyes shot open again and he threw himself out of his bed, looking around himself and realising he was in his flat, he wasn't in the shop. He was – he was at Harry and Ginny's house, in their spare room. He was wearing a pair of striped pyjama pants that he hadn't seen in years, and he saw his clothes hanging on the door, cleaned.

Throwing open the door, George stumbled out into the kitchen and found Ginny standing there, slightly shocked at his sudden appearance. "George," she said, putting down the knife she had been using to make her sandwich with, "You're –"

"Where's Aurelia?" George blurted, "Where's – where's Adriana, and Kingsley? And Harry and Ron? Is everything okay? Did everyone get out? What happened? Where are they?"

Ginny caught onto her brother's tense arms and she shushed him, saying, "George, George – calm down. Everybody is fine. Harry and Ron are at the ministry with the others, Ron got out of hospital last night. Adriana is still there, but she's fine, and Aurelia is in the intensive care ward. Everybody else is fine."

George felt his pulse beginning to slow down slightly, knowing that nobody was hurt, but he said, "What happened? Did they catch the Death Eaters?"

"I don't know," Ginny replied. "You'll have to ask Harry. But you're not well, you only got here yesterday, the hospital wanted to wait until you woke up –"

"Hospital?" George repeated, "What happened to me?"

Ginny opened her mouth to explain, but then she gave him a small smile and led him to the seat at the bench, saying, "Sit down and I'll make you lunch, okay? I'll try to explain."

George placed his head in his hands, a pounding headache beginning to form in his brain, and he saw flashes of his memory escape him – the ministry, the Malfoys, his face hitting the floor. Arthur taking him to hospital, asking him why he went – a Healer giving him some nasty potion, bright white and darkness.

"What happened?" George groaned.

Ginny continued to make her sandwich, but placed another few pieces of bread on the counter to make George one as well. She wore a plain navy blue dress, tights, but no shoes. Her dark hair lazily hung over one shoulder, her clever green eyes tainted with worry for her brother.

"You suffered a fair bit of damage when you disapparated from that basement – whatever it was," Ginny said, unsure of details. "The investigators said there were a whole bunch of spells to stop disapparation from the chambers, placed there by the Death Eaters. The Healers said something – said that a spell like that wasn't designed to be broken through, especially not with two people." Ginny's eyes looked up to George. "You should be dead, George."

He raised his eyebrows. "So – I disapparated through a blocking spell, and – and I'm alive, and Aurelia's alive…"

Ginny nodded. "It was quite a feat. The Aurors were impressed that you had the initiative to let them know you had found Aurelia. That gave them the rights under something – section something of some bloody thing – to do anything within their powers to apprehend the Death Eaters at the residence. One of them was stunned so badly he's got brain damage, Yaxley was hit with an exploding curse and another one lost his forearm. Rastaban killed himself . The others were captured."

George blinked. "Lestrange killed himself? That's – crazy."

"He is insane, George, by any standard," Ginny said with a sigh. She looked at her brother and she reached across the bench to hold his hand. "Merlin, I am so proud of you. Of Harry and Ron, too, but you especially – you made it all worth it, the investigation, all of the bother. You saved somebody," she said, smiling.

George didn't say anything for a heavy moment, and then he felt his lips move upwards and a grin appeared on his face. "I saved someone," he repeated. "I'm a hero."

"You _are_ a hero!" Ginny laughed. "You need a sandwich, hero?"

* * *

George wasn't allowed to apparate for a while, so he was forced to floo back to his apartment. Verity had left a note on his door, saying she'd been back to clean up and prepare to open the next week, if he was up for it. She'd gone and bought food for him, as well, and Mrs. Weasley had been to his room and cleaned all his clothes and left an apple pie waiting for him on the bench.

And though it wasn't such an odd surprise, George smiled. He appreciated that they were thinking of him. He was happy, he felt so wonderful.

Taking a slice of the pie with him as he went, George threw his jacket back on and took the floo network to St Mungo's hospital.

George had never seen Adriana so calm. She was lying back, ever graceful with her hands tied upon her stomach, looking like she could just as easily be in a coffin. But her chest rose and fell, and she was very much alive, save for the exhaustion brought upon her by the spells she had collided with.

After George had left, Adriana had managed to disarm Rodolphus, but when she tried to attack Rastaban he had hit her with a Cruciatus curse. Adriana wasn't the sort of woman to be beaten by one curse, though, and she got up again and gave as good as she got – as George had expected – but after three consecutive torture spells she had fainted, and when Robards had attempted to disarm and capture Rastaban, the Death Eater had pointed his wand at himself and killed himself.

A Healer waved her wand at the jug of water beside Adriana's bed and it refilled. George watched the goings on, waiting for Adriana to wake up. He thought about going to the cafeteria but being his usual careless self, he'd forgotten to bring any spare change. He only had a galleon and he didn't want to spend that on a snack worth a few knuts.

As he watched a man walk past with a plant growing in his hair, a small yawn and shuffle of bed sheets made George turn back, to see Adriana waking up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. It took her a moment to focus, tiredly brushing back the hair from her face. She was slightly surprised to see George, and her eyebrows raised up as she said, "Oh. Hello, George."

"Hey," he replied, sitting up in his seat. "How are you?"

"I'm – I'm good," she replied. Hesitating, Adriana rubbed at her eyes before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting hours," George said. "It says so outside."

Adriana was in a two-bed room, but the other bed was vacant. It was surprisingly quiet, but it was the recovery ward so there weren't many emergencies in that section of the hospital. It was mostly people who were asleep.

Adriana managed a small smile, sitting up further as George poured her a glass of water. "Well, thanks for coming," she said, taking a drink. "I didn't expect you would."

"Oh, were you missing me?" George asked with a crooked smile. "It's okay, I know how difficult life is without me."

Adriana rolled her eyes but George saw her smile. "Don't get too high and mighty, Weasley," she said. "Just because you're a local legend doesn't mean everybody likes you."

"Secretly, you can't get enough of me."

Putting her glass back on the table, Adriana replied, "Don't make me take out my wand."

"Coming from the hospitalised witch," George snorted, quickly moving backwards so as to avoid being hit.

"Come here, I'll give you hospitalised bloody witch –"

"I'd like to see you try!"

George laughed as Adriana took another swipe at him and missed, before resorting to an angry glare. George grinned and said, "I'm just messing with you, Adriana – besides, you wouldn't actually hurt me, would you?"

"I'd get in trouble for it," she said, more to herself than to him.

George glanced at the door before turning back and saying, "Oh, um, Adriana – I just wanted to apologise for – for tricking you, when I followed you through the fire."

Adriana glanced up, the frown gone from her face as she looked at him. "That's alright. Turns out you were more help than I was, anyway."

"Don't say that. Anyway, I wanted to apologise for the kiss, that was out of line."

To his surprise, Adriana looked him dead in the eye and said, "Don't apologise for the kiss."

Taken aback, George hesitated and waited for her to laugh and say she was pulling his leg – but she didn't. He felt his eyebrows tug into a frown, and she only turned away after a moment of total silence.

George didn't know how to respond – so he smiled. "Okay. I won't."

Her eyes flicked back to his, but he only caught them for a moment before he checked his watch and said, "Visiting hours are almost up – I have to get going."

"Okay," Adriana said. "I'll see you again soon, George?"

"Of course," he said, grinning, "Didn't think you could get rid of me that quickly, did you?"

She smiled as George leaned down to embrace her, saying a quiet goodbye before Adriana caught his cheek in her hand and kissed him. Her lips were soft, and careful – but he felt his eyes widen and he tried to unfreeze himself.

She pulled away, and let her hand drop back down to the sheet and George stood, muttered another goodbye as he walked out of the hospital room, hoping she didn't see him blush as he left.

* * *

On his way to the intensive care unit, George had successfully managed to calm his racing heartbeat. Surely that wasn't good for his health.

But Adriana had kissed him – it took him more by surprise than he'd thought it would. Of all the wonderful girls he'd ever had the pleasure of kissing, Adriana was possibly the most upper-class, untouchable, unbreakable and out of his league by anybody's standards. Sure, George and Fred had been popular in high school with girls – but the difference between Fred and George had always been that George knew when to make a move, and Fred had no precautions for any woman.

And yet, George wasn't sure. It seemed… unreal. But whether it was a good thing or not, he couldn't tell.

_Come on, Fred,_ George thought angrily inside his head, _where's your helpful hints when they're actually needed?_

The intensive care unit was quiet, too, but a different sort of quiet. It was whispers and quiet voices, quiet breathing, injuries from the worst of situations. George knew that very few visitors were allowed to see Aurelia, but he wondered if he was one of them. The Auror guarding her room glanced at him once before stepping aside and letting him through – it was a pleasant surprise for George, not having to explain himself again.

As he walked in, Draco turned, his hair shining white and his eyes not looking nearly as hollow as they had the last few times George had seen him. "George," Draco said quietly, "I don't – I don't think –"

His sentence fell short, and George heard the rustle of sheets from behind the curtain, and Draco glanced to where he'd been watching before. He frowned, and said, "Are you sure?" and after another few moments, Draco turned back to George and hesitantly beckoned him over.

George took tentative steps, unsure of the situation – but when he stepped inside the curtain he saw her, and he repressed a gasp. Aurelia's hair had been washed, and her skin cleaned – at least, the parts he could see. Bandages covered her arms, her legs, neck and chest, her eyes clenched in pain as she tried to sit up. The cuts on her face had dried up, but George could see weeping at the edges of the larger cuts, and wetness in her bandages from the fluids her body was leaking.

"Aurelia," George said quietly, "Are – are you okay?"

"She won't speak," Draco said, and George saw him looking at Aurelia. "I don't know if she doesn't want to or she won't, or she can't…"

Aurelia shook her head, and she reached out to Draco, her thin, tiny hand held out to him. He grasped it gently, and let himself be pulled to her, and he stroked her soft hair as she looked at George.

Her eyes were huge, pale and shimmering – George could almost see his reflection in them. It was slightly disturbing. He watched her other hand extend, unfold, her small fingers pale and stick-like – and it took him a moment to realise she was reaching out to him.

When his hand touched hers, he felt something strange. She looked at him with this expression, like she was trying to tell him something but didn't know how. His hand enveloped hers and George glanced at Draco to make sure it was alright, but Draco's attention was focused on his sister.

It had been so long since they'd been together. George watched Aurelia glance up at Draco and saw the way he touched her, like she was the most delicate thing on earth. George felt like this is how he would treat Fred if he was returned to him – nothing could ever be the same, though, and George felt himself shaking inside as the reality of it hit him.

George let go of her hand, about to say that he had to leave, but as his grip slackened, Aurelia's tightened, her knuckles turning white as she grasped onto him.

"She doesn't want you to leave," Draco said. George looked at him, and in the shadowy grey of the blonde boy's eyes was a plead for him to stay, too. "She's been asking for you."

"For me?" George repeated, before he looked down at Aurelia with a small smile, saying, "Why do you want to see me? I'm boring and ugly."

The corners of her dry lips twitched as though she were smiling, and she held his hand tightly. George smiled at her, and saw Draco's eyes soften as Aurelia slipped into sleep, her exhaustion taking over as she slipped down the sheets, letting her brother shift her pillows so she could rest comfortably.

But she would not let go of George's hand.


	23. Chapter 23

Another chapter! I hope you love me, I love me right now. Reviews for gobbies. (Not really, just please give me feedback, tis very nice when you do.)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty Three_**  
**

George only left the hospital when Aurelia had fallen asleep long enough for him to actually remove his hand from her grasp. She was extremely sick, and the Healers had tried to fix her injuries but the burns from dark magic were difficult to heal, and almost entirely untreatable with any remedies.

When George asked what could be done, they said there was nothing they could do. They could sedate her until the wounds had healed, but there was nothing to help her body fix itself.

George had reached up to touch the place where his ear used to be, and he understood. You can't fix something that dark magic had destroyed.

Back at his apartment, George found a note from his mother, inviting him to dinner that night. He glanced at his calendar, and realised it was Saturday already. He must have been totally out of it for three days, at least – that much in itself was amazing to George.

George felt like something was strange, like there was an odd quietness to the place. As he realised what it was, the very thought came as a shock to him.

Fred would be so unimpressed.

George wandered to his bedroom and dug around in his closet, dragging out his royal crimson robes, pinstripe trousers and deep purple shirt, and as he dressed he glanced at himself in the mirror and saw Fred.

The sparkle in his eye didn't feel like his as he smiled, practicing his customer service – but this would be the first time in weeks he had actually ventured out of the storeroom and into the shop.

George thought about sending an owl to Verity to tell her the shop was open – but he remembered that the business owl they used was actually her owl. So that wasn't going to work.

Throwing a handful of floo powder in his fireplace, George swiftly put up a number of intrusive banners about Verity's apartment living room, with messages that said she would be fired unless she showed up for work on time, and conjured a giant clock which sang opera every five minutes. If she wasn't home at the moment, her neighbours might get slightly peeved – but what was life without the odd annoyance, thought George?

Wandering downstairs, George waved his wand about the shop so all the items straightened up, the dirt lifted itself from the floor and disappeared, the windows shined themselves and the curtains shook themselves out.

George opened the door, and turned the closed sign around, and smiled at a passerby who smiled back. He fixed his crimson bow-tie and brushed down his coat, and leaned against the counter, waiting for customers.

And as always, he didn't have to wait long before the shop became busy.

* * *

Verity turned up about half an hour later, looking slightly frazzled as she made her way to the counter. "George," she said, sounding annoyed, "What are you playing at?"

"Just trying to get some business, my dear," he said, smiling at a customer. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"George, you hardly work behind the counter anymore," she said, taking off her sweater and putting on her crimson work robe. "What's gotten you into such a good mood?"

"I don't know if you heard, but I saved somebody's life this week," George said, brushing back the hair from his eyes.

"Don't get cocky," Verity grumbled, but when George raised his eyebrows at her, she smiled and said, "Glad you're back, George."

"So am I," he said, before turning to the crowd and yelling, "Free samples of our brand new, limited edition Chill Candy, from the Fever Fudge range. Test it out on your enemies today!"

The voices of the crowd grew louder as they moved towards the bench to grab a handful of the latest atrocious prank from the Weasley shop.

* * *

George did not change from his pinstripe trousers or crisp purple shirt, but changed his bowtie to a sharp black leather tie as he readied himself for dinner at the Burrow. From the money Ron and Harry had earned at the Ministry, and from Arthur Weasley's successful book, 'Understanding Common Muggle Words', they had raised enough money to rebuild their family home. It wasn't quite the same – the plumbing was better and the building less likely to creak when the wind blew too hard – but it was one of the most wonderful things George had ever seen rebuilt. It made it all seem so much better, so much more normal now that their family home was whole once again.

George felt a small amount of worry as he stood in front of the fireplace, wondering what his mother would say when he actually turned up for dinner, knowing she'd heard about the rescue. She'd probably want do raise a toast to him and get him to cut the meat and shower him with kisses.

George wrinkled up his nose, having second thoughts about going, but then sighed and threw a handful of the floo powder into the flames and stepped through to the Burrow.

* * *

It was almost as bad as George had imagined but he knew it was good for him. Or, productive. Something to do with good communication. He wasn't sure, but he was there and he did his best to not mope around like he usually did. It didn't really work but at least he was trying this time.

Harry had taken the night off work, even though the report on the Death Eater raid had yet to be finished, and Ginny had attempted to make dessert but George could see the raspberry cake falling to pieces on the bench, and smiled as Molly cast a few spells on it to hold it together.

Fleur and Bill were there, and Fleur's robes had been adjusted to cater for her heavily pregnant stomach which seemed to get bigger every time George saw her. She was usually the centre of the girl's attention, what with being pregnant and all, but this week it was Hermione who was the cause for excitement. Her new sparkly engagement ring caught the warm light of the Burrow's lanterns. Ron couldn't have looked any more bashful if he tried as Hermione proudly showed Fleur, Ginny, Molly and Andromeda Tonks, Teddy's grandmother, the diamond.

"You'd think they'd never seen one before," Ron muttered. George smiled and watched the girls as they talked flowers, dresses, lace, bridesmaids and tablecloths – among other things. Hermione seemed to be very excited about it now, but in eight months time when the wedding was due to be held George knew she would be frazzled and panicked about all the minor details.

Harry sat at the table with little Teddy Lupin on his lap, his godson fascinated by Harry's silver watch which he was playing with. Teddy lived with Andromeda permanently, though throughout the week other members of the family would offer to look after him. He was mostly well behaved, if a bit cheeky at times, but George knew he was a good kid.

"I cannot wait until ze babee is born," Fleur would say with a happy sigh, "Teddy will 'ave a new friend to play with."

Teddy cackled at the watch as he fiddled with the dials and it began whistling and tweeting at him. George said to Harry, "Did you want me to look after him tomorrow, Mrs. Tonks? I was meant to be babysitting him anyway."

"If you're willing," said Andromeda, watching as Harry adjusted his glasses from where Teddy had knocked them askew. "Not if you're not up to it, what with your being sick and all."

Ginny wandered over to take him from Harry, so he could grab himself a drink. They seemed to be working in perfect parental tandem. "I mean, he is a handful," his grandmother said with a smile.

"I know," George replied, as Teddy handed him the watch to hold as he played with the ribbon in Ginny's hair, "But you should spend tomorrow in relative quiet."

Teddy blinked at George as though he knew he was being talked about. "Yes, you, monkey-child," George said, tickling his neck, "You're the noisy one."

Teddy giggled and latched onto George's hand before reaching out to him to be held. George took him from Andromeda just as Molly picked up the roast chicken and said cheerily, "Alright, everybody – dinner's ready. Who wants to cut the chicken?"

George held up Teddy's hand and as the others laughed, Teddy glanced around and then joined in, giggling along with them even though he didn't understand why they were laughing. Arthur stood to take the knife from Molly as she grabbed the potatoes, the gravy and the Yorkshire pudding and placed them on the table.

As she did, Percy walked through the door, taking off his Ministry robes and saying, "Hello – sorry I'm late."

"It's alright, you only missed Hermione using her ring to shine the light into your eyes," said Ron, earning himself a soft punch from his fiancée before she did exactly that, jumping over to show Percy the ring.

"Oh, congratulations," said Percy with a smile, giving Hermione a slightly awkward, but well-meant hug. He wandered over to the table and said, "Hello, George – recovered well enough, I take it?"

"Yeah, I'm better," George said. "Didn't get any battle scars."

"Not that it won't stop you from using the story to pick up girls," said Bill with a grin, making George laugh.

"From the way I hear it, I don't think George needs any help in that area," said Harry with a wink as he sat down.

"Oh yeah," said Ron through a mouthful of chicken, "What's her name – Adriana?"

As soon as a woman's name was mentioned, Molly paused and turned to George with a smile playing upon her lips. "A girlfriend, George?"

"No, Mum, calm down," George said immediately, "She's not my girlfriend. The same way Verity isn't, the same way Angelina wasn't, she's just – not."

"Yet."

George turned to Ron and said, "I'm going to end you, Ron. I don't care how engaged you are."

But as Ron snorted at the frown he pulled, George felt his lips tug up and his face split into a grin. Suddenly, he wasn't trying to be happy. It was almost like it had been before, and it hadn't been like that for so long.

And just as he stuck his fork into a roast potato, a glowing streak of light flew through the room. Harry and Ginny both stood up, and Hermione held onto her wand. Arthur held out the knife he'd been using to cut the meat, glanced at it and then put it down, taking out his own wand.

But as the light collected and formed a shape, George knew it was a patronus, and the ferret-like creature gathered itself before the voice of Draco Malfoy spoke into the room, saying, "Aurelia needs help. Come quickly."

The patronus disappeared into white smoke, and a soft silence settled upon the previously bustling and noisy dinner table. Teddy poked George in the face, bringing him back to reality and he said in a slightly hesitant voice, "I – I better go. Um, Andromeda," he said, as he passed Teddy to his grandmother. "I'll – I'll see what – I'll try to get back in time for cake," he managed, smiling at Ginny before walking to the fireplace and taking the floo network to St. Mungo's.

* * *

George tripped as he jumped up the stairs, stumbling but managing to stay upright as he raced towards her room, the guard stepping aside without having to ask him for identification. George skidded to a halt in the room, and found Draco holding Aurelia still as she cried and writhed on the bed, tugging at the bandages and the bindings on her body. Narcissa was crying, hand over her mouth, and the Healers were trying to administer Aurelia potions but she hit the glasses away, the sound of glass shattering making George jump.

"Draco!" George exclaimed, "What's going on?"

"She had a nightmare," Draco said, trying to hush his sister, his own panic showing. "She won't stop, she's hurting – help me, George!"

George took the last few steps to the bed and took one of Aurelia's hands in his and he said in a careful voice, "Aurelia?"

She was crying, her eyes swollen and her limbs tangled in the sheets as blood dripped from her wounds, tearing open as she writhed. George cleared his throat and said loudly and clearly, "Aurelia, look at me."

She turned, her eyes meeting his, and he could see the pain she was going through. Placing his other hand on her head gently, George spoke softly to her. "Aurelia, stop moving. You're only going to hurt yourself."

When she tried to struggle again, George reprimanded her calmly. "Aurelia, I said stop. Do as I say."

She glanced at him again, tears streaming down her scarred cheeks, her breathing ragged and laboured as she hyperventilated. George kneeled by the bed and grasped her hand in his, holding it to his chest as he stroked her hair gently.

"You're okay, Aurelia," he said, swallowing his nervousness. The Malfoys were watching him, along with the Healers. He took a breath and continued speaking. "You're safe, and nothing can hurt you. But you're going to be in more pain if you keep moving around like that, so – so cut it out."

Aurelia stopped moving, and her hand clenched onto his as her tears spilled from her eyes. She whimpered from the pain she was feeling from her wounds. George glanced around to Narcissa and Draco, Narcissa's pale cheeks beginning to get some colour again and Draco's worried eyes had calmed. George managed a small nervous smile before turning back to Aurelia. Her pale eyes, George noticed, were not as silver as Draco's – they had a slight golden hint to them. She blinked, and her lips quivered as she breathed a little more evenly.

A Healer tapped George on the shoulder and said quietly, "Ask her if she'll drink this potion. She needs to take it."

George nodded and took his hand from behind Aurelia's head and grasped the glass of potion, and he glanced up at Aurelia and said, "Will you please drink this, Aurelia?"

She shook her head, tears still falling. George said to her as she cried, "I know it hurt, and this probably tastes like crap, but you need to get better. I didn't run around like a mad man and fight off bad guys for you to sit in hospital and not get better."

Narcissa gasped a little at his bluntness, but Aurelia understood. "Do it for me, please," George said, holding the glass up to her, and she opened her mouth obediently for him to place the glass at her lips. Slowly, she drank the thick liquid, squinting at the bad taste as it slowly went down her throat.

She didn't drink it all, a small amount was left at the bottom, but George handed her a cup of water with a straw in it and she drank from that, getting the taste out of her mouth. The others watched as he cared for her, and stayed by her side as she settled down. The Healers wandered out of the room and Draco moved to stand beside the bed, and he said, "Aurelia, are you okay?"

George knew if she nodded she would be lying, but she gave a small nod anyway and closed her eyes. Narcissa placed her hand on George's shoulder and whispered a small thank you as Aurelia drifted into induced sleep.


	24. Chapter 24

Sorry it's been ages, been really busy with school stuff lately. Not much time for writing. I'm actually meant to be leaving - or meant to have left about five minutes ago. But oh well. I decided I'm getting some momentum back. I'm nearly, nearly there. It's going awesome. I know what's happening but I'm gonna do that mean thing writers do and confuse you with silly plot twists. B the W, from this point in it will be mostly romance and less scary drama... no giveaways though.

So I'm shaking this thing up a bit. Hope you don't mind. Let me know what you're thinking.. :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty Four_**  
**

When George woke, he found himself slouched in the chair beside Aurelia's bed, her hand still touching his, and he realised he had fallen asleep holding her hand. Rubbing at his tired eyes, he glanced at his watch and saw it was just past six in the morning. There wasn't anybody else in the room, which struck him as odd. He stood and stretched, noticing the buttons on his sleeve were undone and his tie was slung over the back of the chair with his jacket.

Aurelia looked incredibly calm, her hair pulled back from her face and her breathing slow and even. The soft morning light cast shadows beside her scars and George wondered if they would ever fully heal. He'd never seen such wounds, and he knew the spells the Death Eaters used on her were not the type to recover from quickly.

As he attempted to comb the tangles from his hair with his fingers, wincing as they caught in a particularly difficult knot, there was the sound of quiet footsteps as Mr Malfoy walked into the hospital room and George struggled to remove his hand from his hair as he said, "Oh, Mr – Mr Malfoy, good morning."

"Good day, George," replied Lucius calmly, eyes skimming over George and looking at Aurelia, lying peacefully in her bed, sleeping the morning away. "I must apologise – I would have woken you but the last time she woke and you weren't here, her distress was – unsettling."

"Of course," George said with a nod. "I'm happy to help, I mean, if that's what it takes, I'll stay here every night."

Lucius glanced at George with a slightly raised eyebrow, making George shuffle his feet slightly, brushing down his clothes to make himself look a little bit better. A long, awkward minute passed before Lucius spoke again, and he said quietly, "George, you must understand that Aurelia doesn't have nearly as much trust in me as she does in her mother and brother – or even in you, as it appears."

George was slightly surprised, and began to say, "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"

Lucius stopped his apology with a raised hand. "Do not apologise, Mr Weasley. I'm not angry. I'm simply – explaining." George was quiet as Lucius thought for a moment before beginning to speak again.

"I don't believe that Aurelia thinks very highly of me," Lucius said, voice not as steady as it usually was. "As you can imagine, I wasn't myself when – I didn't know myself for a long time."

Lucius' cold eyes darted to George and he said, "She trust you, George. You know she has some sort of link to you now, and she won't let you go until she's better."

George nodded. What Mr Malfoy said next was entirely unexpected.

He said, "When Aurelia is well enough to leave the hospital, would you care to stay with us until she is fully recovered?"

George blinked, and his mouth opened to speak but no words came out. "I – oh, well, that's – I – well –"

"George, she needs you," Lucius said, glancing back to his daughter, his usually cold eyes holding a strange warmth as he looked at the scarred, pale girl lying there. "I haven't been there for her and I'm trying to do everything I can to make sure she gets the love she deserves. But she doesn't want it from me."

George could not think of anything to say, but the first thing that escaped his lips was, "What about my shop?"

Lucius stared at him for a moment before he said, voice becoming cold again, "I see. I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Mister Weasley."

George panicked as the elder Malfoy made his way for the door, and he said, "No, w-wait! Mister Malfoy!"

Lucius hesitated long enough for George to take a quick breath and speak. "Please, I didn't mean that I don't want to help, in any way I can – I just have a lot to consider. I mean, it wouldn't be out of the question for Aurelia to stay in the shop, would it?"

Lucius frowned a deeply confused frown, and said quietly, "I beg your pardon?"

George swallowed. "Look, can I – can we both think about it? Perhaps discuss it sometime, with Mrs. Malfoy and Aurelia, too?"

Lucius stared at him for a long time before he said in a strained voice, "If you ask Aurelia, she will go to you. I need her to be my daughter, George, no matter how important you are."

Without another word, he swept out of the room, leaving nothing but a shadow of his former dignity.

* * *

George waited by Aurelia's bed until she woke almost an hour later – her eyelids opened slowly and heavily, and she took a moment to focus. George had pulled the curtain so there wasn't as much light, because it made her eyes hurt. She looked around and when she saw him, George saw her smile softly. She weakly lifted a hand and reached out to him, and it took him a moment to realise that she wanted to hold his hand. Or she wanted him to hold hers.

When George gently held onto her hand, her eyes slipped closed again and she breathed out a soft sigh. She wasn't really awake yet, but George had to go and he was waiting for her to wake so she could know he would come back.

"Aurelia?" George asked in a very quiet voice. When her eyelashes fluttered again, he knew she'd heard him. "Aurelia, I have to go – I have to go to work. My shop is opening soon."

Aurelia's eyes opened again, shimmering as she glanced at him. "I'm sorry," George said, holding onto her hands with both of his. "I wish I could stay with you, but you need rest and I have a business to run."

They sat like that, quietly, for a small while, before George asked, "Is it okay if I go, Aurelia?"

She did not reply, her vanilla eyes staring at the ceiling.

"I promise I'll be back," George said, holding onto her hand with both of his, reassuring her. She looked back at him and she shifted her head in the slightest nod.

"I'll see you again soon, Aurelia," said George, with a smile. "Make sure you take the potions, and eat your breakfast. You'll feel better."

She nodded again.

"I'll bring you a present. A stink-bomb. That should really impress your Mum, hey?"

George felt a warmth in his chest as he watched her smile, her small, white teeth showing, cracks in some and chips out of others. It made him sad to see her so broken.

Squeezing her hand gently, he said as he let go, "Go back to sleep, Aurelia. I'll be back soon."

He pulled up her covers and touched her hair one last time before he made his way out of the hospital.

* * *

The day had gone for a very long time. George used to take Sundays off all the time, even though he knew it was prime shopping time. Almost everybody else took Sundays off, so they would go to Diagon Alley to shop. The profits were too good.

George had spent much of his time in the back room, trying to experiment with his new room sprays which turned into fireworks whenever anybody said the word 'wizard'. It was pretty ingenious, but entirely pointless. The only purpose it served was to provide giggles.

As he was brewing, his hand paused and George stopped for a moment to consider the ridiculousness of it all. Here he was, the man who brought countless smiles and endless laughter, and for the last two years he had hardly smiled at all. It made no sense.

He'd been smiling much more lately. He smirked to himself as he weighed his ingredients, ticking off items from the checklist as he added them to the brew. _Maybe that's what I was meant to do_, he thought. _Maybe Fred had been keeping me unhappy for so long because the job wasn't done, there was still somebody who needed help._

George glanced up at the roof at a particularly dark stain, where one of Fred's experiments had spontaneously combusted and left a number of marks throughout the room. He smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd thought of Fred and smiled.

There was a knock on the door, and George snapped out of his spaced-out moment and said, "Uh, I – come in?" as he fumbled with his stirring spoon.

The door opened, and to George's great surprise Adriana stepped into the room. "Good afternoon, George," she said.

"Oh, Adriana – hi," George replied, not feeling intelligent in the least as he tried to clean up his mess hurriedly, ridding himself of his apron. "What's up?"

"Nothing, really," replied Adriana, glancing around the dusty room. "So this is where the magic happens, hey?" When George did nothing but nod and grimace slightly, she said, "I just wanted to drop past and see how you were going. Verity told me you would be in here."

"Yeah," George replied. "Well, thanks for coming around. I mean, I'm fine – how are you doing?"

Adriana nodded, and gave a smile. "I'm doing well. I'm almost completely healed."

"That's great news. Back to work tomorrow then?"

Adriana 'hmphed'. "No. I'm taking as much time off as they'll let me have."

George chuckled. "That's what you get when you work for the ministry."

She laughed, her sharp golden eyes sparkling. George wondered why she was being so uncommonly kind to him – he could have a guess but he'd rather not. He wasn't entirely sure he was ready for that…

Unfortunately, Adriana had already stepped towards him and she said, "George, I'm sorry if I seem forward – obviously I'm not usually this – well, I don't make a habit of –"

"Oh, yeah – I mean, no, it's fine –" George stood up a little straighter, accidentally knocking a small cauldron from a nearby desk and fumbling his hands to catch it before it cracked on the concrete floor. Adriana watched, almost amused by his nervous antics.

George smiled, slightly embarrassed, hoping she didn't think he was a total idiot. She looked at him strangely, and something happened – George wasn't sure what it was, but she had stepped forward again and then her lips were on his, and his hands were grasping to hold onto her, and she was running her fingers through his hair. It took his breath away, but he knew it was for all the wrong reasons. He hadn't felt a kiss like this since high school, and he knew it was exactly the same – it was the rush and the thrill of the moment, the temporary rush of emotion and release of tension like a tightened coil snapping, and it was all George could do to show some self-control.

Breathlessly, he kissed her the way he remembered kissing so many of those high-school girls, the ones who had loved him unconditionally, when he'd played the field, he and his brother breaking so many hearts, being loved by so many people. He hadn't been a heart-breaker for years. He hadn't fixed his own, yet. He wasn't the same.

And as Adriana kissed him, and George pulled her against him, all thought and track of time was lost as he tugged her hair free and tangled his hands in the dark lengths, savouring the taste of her lips and the feeling of her hips pressing against his, and he was lost.


	25. Chapter 25

This ones a tad shorter but I figured I didn't need to add much more to it... I don't usually like them when they're under 2000 words a chapter, but this one is short and sweet. And it gets an important piece of plot-line out of the way. Lets go!

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty Five_

It was only after Adriana had left, saying she had to get home that George began to question himself. What was he doing? What was going on? He didn't usually go all out with a girl until he'd seen her a few times, at least after a date.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Blimey," he said.

Adriana was completely stunning. There was no doubt in his mind that she was the most gorgeous, confident and sexy witch to ever step foot in his shop (and his flat). But it had all happened so quick – she'd just walked in, and when it was done she walked back out again. No pleasantries, no cuddles or cups of coffee. Not even a kiss on the cheek as she walked out.

George was confused.

But he didn't have time for confusion as he glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly six o'clock, and he was meant to be seeing Aurelia. A few choice swear words left his mouth as he ran upstairs to shower.

* * *

George used the floo system to get to the hospital, knowing he could very well apparate but he knew the healers would frown upon it, after what had happened last week. He took the elevator up the floors, stretching out his arms and touching the ceiling, glancing at his reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator. It was a very Muggle-like invention – George found that he liked elevators. His dad was a very good influence on him, like that. He knew his way around the Muggle world better than some wizards.

George could see colour in his face, a shine to his hair he hadn't seen in a while. He blinked as he thought he saw his reflection wink at him in a very Fred-like way, and it shocked him. But all he saw was his own eyes, staring right back at him.

_Where are you, Fred?_

The elevator stopped abruptly and George clutched to the rail as the doors opened, nodding politely to a Healer with a trolley of food making her way back down to the kitchen. She smiled tiredly back.

George strode down the ward to Aurelia's room, where he saw a familiar-looking wizard standing guard. George was sure he was one of the Aurors who had gone to the Lestrange's manor. George greeted him in a friendly manner and the Auror said, "Good evening, Mister Weasley," before stepping aside to let him pass. George thanked him before wandering into the room, where he saw Aurelia sleeping, her thin white face pressed against the white pillow, and her family around her – Lucius was standing at the end of the bed, and Narcissa sat in a chair beside the bed, Draco standing behind her.

George did not need to announce himself, as Narcissa looked up and said, "Oh, George – thank you so much for coming. She'll wake up soon, I hope…"

Draco touched his mother on the shoulder and she looked away from George before a careful smile reassured her son. Lucius cleared his throat gently and said, "George, I was hoping we could discuss the details of you staying with Aurelia – or vice versa, as it were."

A quick glance passed between Narcissa and Lucius before he turned to George again and said, "Narcissa doesn't particularly favour the idea of Aurelia staying in your flat, as opposed to staying with us, so shortly after she has been returned to us – but if you need to stay at the shop then we can – find a compromise."

George nodded slowly. "What sort of compromise?"

Lucius turned to Narcissa who replied for him. "Allowing us to see her whenever we possibly can, allowing us to stay with her until she is settled in. We can organise extra furniture, if you need it, we just –"

Draco squeezed her shoulder again and she quieted. She was uptight and nervous, George could tell. He was surprised she'd managed to keep her cool for so long already. He glanced from Draco to Lucius, waiting for somebody to speak.

"We'll do anything to make sure she's safe."

Draco's voice was alarmingly quiet and soft, and he looked – well, he looked tired, but not like he needed sleep. Like he needed assurance, and he needed calm. He was worn.

George thought for a moment, and he knew if he was going to let Aurelia stay in his apartment he would have to let her sleep in Fred's room. The thought stabbed at him, deep in his chest, and he felt a resounding pain throughout his centre. Fred's room… it would still be Fred's room. But he'd have to change the sheets, and clean up, shift Fred's things into boxes… thinking about it made him feel sick.

But he knew it had to be done.

George nodded, and he said, "I have a spare room. I can adjust the security spells to allow you to apparate and floo to the apartment whenever you like. I can look after her, keep her safe. She won't get hurt at the shop, as long as nobody knows she's there."

"Can you make sure nobody knows she's there?" Lucius asked.

"Of course," George replied. "There are so many ways to keep her hidden. Disillusionment, invisibility spells – even disguises."

"Disguises?" Narcissa asked, frowning.

George smiled at her, and said, "During the war Fred and I were often caught out for having bright red hair, after they made us shut down the shop. It was too easy for them to tell who we were. So we'd dye our hair brown, wear old man's clothes, put on moustaches, stuff like that." He glanced at Lucius and said quickly, "Of course, I don't mean to say I'm going to make her wear a moustache…"

To his great surprise, Lucius chuckled, and he said, "I certainly hope not, Mister Weasley."

George managed a small smile before the rustling of the sheets drew his attention away, and Aurelia's eyes opened slowly. Draco moved to her side instantly, and Narcissa looked as though she were about to stand up but she stayed in her seat, hands in her lap.

"Hey, 'Lia," Draco said, smiling. "We're all here to see you."

He passed her a glass of water, and helped her take a drink, and as he did George watched her eyes glance towards him.

Suddenly, he remembered something.

Aurelia was Rufus Scrimgeour's daughter, and Adriana was the daughter of Rufus' brother. Adriana was related to Aurelia. She was her cousin. George had slept with Aurelia's secret cousin.

He tried to stop the blood draining from his face but it was rather difficult. There was something incredibly wrong about all this – he was meant to be helping the Malfoys to look after their long lost daughter and he was late to see her because he was too busy being seduced by a ridiculously good looking Unspeakable.

He deserved to be slapped.

_Bloody idiot._

For the first time in a long time, Fred's voice in his head didn't frighten him. _Thanks, mate, _George thought back, and he tried to forget about Adriana and concentrate on the situation at hand.

Narcissa was speaking to her daughter – George missed the first part of the sentence. "… going to help you get better – but darling, you're not going to be staying with us."

Aurelia frowned as much as the bandage around her head would allow her to, and Narcissa gently stroked her hair, before continuing, her voice weak. "It's too dangerous to stay with us, Aurelia," she said quietly. "You have to stay with George, at his shop. You have to stay hidden for a while."

George watched as the information sunk in and all of a sudden, her eyes lit up and she looked over to him, sparkling and glowing. He smiled at her, and couldn't think of anything to say.

"We'll come see you," Narcissa said, "All the time. But you can't stay at the Manor because – because –"

She didn't have to finish her sentence. They all knew if there was an ulterior motive for kidnapping Aurelia, and there were more of the Death Eaters left out there, they might try to take her again.

Aurelia nodded, and she tightened her grip on her mother's hand. Narcissa leaned towards her to kiss her forehead gently, and Lucius nodded at George, knowing that it had all worked out alright, in the end.

George knew he had a huge responsibility. But for now it was calm, and everything was alright.


	26. Chapter 26

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty Six_**  
**

The following morning was a rush for George. He left Verity to work in the shop, knowing a Monday morning wouldn't be too busy – or at least, hoping it wouldn't be – so he could go to Fred's room and begin packing.

George knew he could just wave his wand and magic his brother's belongings into boxes, but he didn't like the sound of that. Fred would be poking him with his ghost wand and call him a lazy bastard, tell him he should do some real work every now and then. Lazy bastard.

George waved his wand and at his feet, a number of storage boxes appeared. He took a deep breath as he walked towards the first set of drawers. Starting with clothes – that should be easy enough.

But he opened the drawer and stared at the shirts, a ridiculous purple striped shirt staring right back at him, and he had frozen. He didn't know how long he stood there, but he knew he jumped very high in the air as soon as somebody knocked on the door.

He managed to contain his surprised yelp as he turned around, and saw Ginny.

"Hey, George," she said.

"Ginny," he managed. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were going – Verity told me you were packing. I didn't think you'd ever get around to shifting Fred's stuff," she said with a sad smile, looking at the room.

"Well, I…" George began, but had to clear his throat before he could talk. "I have to move his stuff. Aurelia's coming to stay here."

Ginny's eyes went wide. "Aurelia Malfoy? Really?"

"Yeah," George replied. "It's not safe for her to stay at her manor yet. Secretly I think it's because she likes me more." He tried to smile but it didn't work.

Ginny chuckled. "Well, that's good. She'll be happy here. And safe." She looked at George and the empty boxes, before she plonked her bag on the floor and rolled up the sleeves of her sweater. "Come on then, let's do some packing."

Ginny took out every item of Fred's clothing and refolded it, and put it into two piles – things George could wear, and things he couldn't. Stupidly coloured polo shirts and sweaters with 'F' stitched into the front went into the pile of things George wasn't to wear, and most of the other clothes went into George's wardrobe. He felt bad, wearing Fred's things – but as Ginny pointed it, it meant he didn't have to do his laundry as much, and he would have swapped clothes with Fred when he was alive anyway so what was the difference?

Apart from Fred not being there anymore, George pondered with a sigh.

Ginny pulled out a scarf from one of the drawers and was about to put it onto the pile of things George wasn't to wear – mostly because it was a ridiculous burgundy and gold stitching by their mother and was certainly not wearable in public – but George knew that it would still smell like Fred so he made her put it in the wearable pile. He wanted to keep it. Ginny didn't raise an eyebrow, knowing that George had his reasons.

The unwearable clothes were put into a box which was shrunk for easy storage.

The rest of the things were difficult to put away – George didn't recognise some things of Fred's, but his watches and rings were too familiar to store away. George put them in his own drawer. All of Fred's books were moved to George's bookshelf, and all of Fred's coats and work clothes in his cupboard were shifted to George's cupboard.

His collection of random items – like Sneakoscopes and fake wands and prank items from their high school days – were placed in another box and stored away. Things George didn't need.

Nothing was thrown out.

With Ginny's help, he took the sheets off Fred's bed and folded them neatly, placing them back into the linen cupboard in the hall, and getting out fresh ones. Ginny didn't ask why he wasn't using magic.

She did ask though, why it had taken him so long to get around to doing it.

"It was mostly about the smell," George said bluntly, and this caused Ginny to raise an eyebrow. George tried to explain, but found it difficult.

"You know how everybody has a smell? I mean, Harry smells like Harry, and you smell like Harry sometimes too," George said with a laugh, and Ginny giggled like a high school girl, "Well, Fred smelled like Fred. I didn't notice it much when he was here but after he was gone I noticed it more. I used to sit in here for hours, just – breathing."

Ginny's face lost its smile as she listened. She glanced around the room and she said quietly, "So you're willing to give that up? For Aurelia?"

George shook his head, his hair falling across his eyes. "No. It doesn't smell like him anymore. It smells like dust. There's nothing left for me here."

Ginny stayed for a while to dust the room and clean the windows, and George went back downstairs to help out in the shop. He'd already adjusted the security spells so the Malfoys could come and go as they so pleased – he didn't have to worry about that. He found Verity downstairs, and asked how everything was going.

"Well enough," she said. "Nothing much going on, the fireworks which were on sale are almost gone. I'm thinking we need to clear the front row of portable swamps and canned spiders so we can make room for the Valentine's Day products."

George groaned. "Oh god, I hate Valentine's Day."

Verity grinned. "That's what you get for being a heartbreaker. Have we got any new products this year or the usual disgusting heart shaped, sickness-inducing candies and ridiculously over-priced love potions?"

"Shhh!" George hissed as he watched a customer go by, "You can't let anybody know that they're over-priced!"

"You're a terrible person."

"But an excellent business man," George said. "Now, call if you need a hand – I should probably get started on those love potions."

As he turned to walk away Verity said, "Hey George, did you ever think of hiring somebody to help with the potions? You're going to be super busy next month."

George hesitated and replied, "Ah, yeah. I've already got somebody lined up."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She'll be around soon…"

* * *

George didn't start cooking the potions just yet because he knew Aurelia would be arriving soon – and an over-cooked love potion was dreadful. They'd overcooked a batch a few years ago and had a number of complaints to do with the recipients developing bad nail-biting habits and having vision clouded by pink. It was quite dreadful.

Ginny was sticking around, still dusting Fred's room and waving her wand at the cracked paint on the wall. George knew she'd like to have changed the colour from the deep purple to something a little more subtle but she didn't out of respect for her brother. Even if Fred did have awful taste, she did love him.

George had just begun to crush the moonstones when he heard a sharp crack upstairs. Knowing well that Ginny wouldn't have broken anything that loudly, he assumed that somebody had arrived. He placed the mortar and pestle back on the bench and made his way up out of the basement, through the store room and the shop, and up the stairs to his apartment.

When he made it up the stairs, he found Draco waiting in the modest living room slash kitchen. Draco glanced around before he spotted George, and he nodded politely. "Good morning, George."

"Morning, Draco," George replied. "I take it everything is going well?"

"Well as can be," Draco said. "Aurelia will be here in a moment. I've brought one of her bags – where is she staying?"

"Oh, right. This way."

Draco followed George through the hallway, and George suddenly felt very conscious of the fact that his apartment was rather small and stuffy, the hallway narrow and the rooms cramped with furniture. He could probably fit twenty of his apartments into the Malfoy Manor.

Grimacing at the crappy wallpaper, George walked into Fred's room where Ginny was finishing cleaning out the cupboards. "Oh, hello Draco," she said with a smile.

"Hello, Ginny," Draco said, his voice slightly strained. He probably hadn't seen Ginny, let alone spoken to her since before the war, when everybody hated each other – especially Draco and Harry. George knew it was probably difficult for Ginny to act so politely towards them but she knew she had to do it for George.

"I just finished cleaning up Fred's old room," she said, although George wasn't sure who she was speaking to. "I suppose it's a tad small but it'll do, right?" Her smile was a little too forced and George knew she was having a poke at the Malfoys and their enormous home.

"It'll be fine," Draco said, just as dryly. "I'm sure Aurelia will be very comfortable here." He did glance at the purple walls but said nothing.

Ginny's lips twitched but she said nothing. "Alright then. I'm going to grab some lunch, George, did you want anything?"

"No thanks, I've got some soup and some pie Mum left the other day," he replied. "Draco, did you want me to take that, while you go wait in the living room for –"

George's sentence was cut off by another loud crack. "Ah, that'll be the others," Draco said, dropping the bag on the floor and striding out past Ginny.

She raised her eyebrows, and glanced at George. "He won't be staying often, will he?"

George frowned at her. "Don't be like that. It's difficult for them."

"You're too bloody soft, George," she said, but she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you after. Look after yourself, let us know if you need anything."

"I will," George said, straightening Ginny's scarf. "Thanks for helping out."

"Anytime."

She disappeared with a loud snap, making George jump. Apparating was far too shocking.

George walked back out to the living room where he found Lucius talking with Draco, while Narcissa stood with her arm around Aurelia.

The others turned to George but he didn't see them. For the first time since he'd taken her from the Death Eaters, George could see Aurelia's face – they had removed her bandages.

Her face was still healing, but the wounds were not weeping or bleeding. Her hair had been washed, brushed and cut, and it hung neatly down her shoulders and back. George couldn't quite see the rest of her bandages but she was wearing long sleeves, a collar, a small silk scarf, and loose trousers. She seemed much taller now that she was standing, but she was still quite small.

Her soft eyes landed on him and she smiled, and it took George a moment to smile back. "Hey, Aurelia," he said quietly, before he noticed Lucius and Narcissa watching him, too. "Oh, um – welcome to my house. Flat. Here, um – let me take some of those bags…"

Stepping forward to take the bags from Lucius, he led them to Fred's room, again noticing the narrowness of the corridor more than he ever had before. "I hope this is okay," he said, as he placed the bags at the foot of the bed.

Narcissa seemed content with the room – at least, more content than Draco had been – and Lucius was smart enough to hide his disapproval. He was more than grateful for George caring for his daughter.

"This is more than acceptable," Lucius said, "And we can possibly extend the wardrobe, should we need another room for one of us to stay in."

George blinked. Of course, why didn't he think of that? "That's a great idea," he said. "I'll get working on that one. If you wanted to stay tonight, I could get it done straight away…?"

Narcissa glanced at Lucius, before she said, "No, we'd better not. We don't want it being too crowded. But could we stay for a while?"

George nodded. "By all means, make yourselves at home."

He watched as Narcissa helped Aurelia to the bed, sitting her down as Draco opened the first case of clothes, and waved his wand at the clothes. They floated out of the bags and folded themselves neatly into the drawers and the cupboards, and within the space of about thirty seconds she was unpacked. Her books were sitting on the book shelf and a few photographs were in frames on the shelves on the wall, an emerald green rug thrown over the bed and a few boxes of school work tucked neatly away under the bed.

While George watched the items move around, he remembered he had something of his own to give to Aurelia. He waved his wand at the hallway and muttered an _accio _spell, and caught the small notebook and quill in his hand. The others turned to look at him, and he said a little nervously, "I, ah – I got Aurelia a present. Like – a room-warming present."

The small leather notebook was simple but it was pretty, and the pages replaced themselves if they ever ran out. George had seen it while shopping in Diagon Alley the day before and had thought of Aurelia, knowing that if she couldn't speak, perhaps it would help her.

Aurelia stood up, moving towards George, and he held out the notebook to her. Her small, thin hands reached up to take it from him, and she looked up with big eyes and a smile.

Any sense of discomfort George had felt before was gone, and he knew that it was all going to be okay.


	27. Chapter 27

I had to upload this one quickly because somebody thought I had finished! Sorry for the confusion, I'll just clear it up - there is still another ten thousand words at least to go on this story, it's way longer than I ever expected but I'll definitely let you know when I plan on wrapping this baby up. Still going strong! Haha. Hope you're all liking it, any suggestions/ideas and I'll take them into consideration. Eg I'm gonna bring back Oliver Wood for some screen (word*) time :D but not just yet. haha.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty Seven_**  
**

Later on that night, George was heating up the pumpkin soup Molly had given him when Aurelia emerged from her room. She had stayed there for most of the afternoon, and had been reading some of her books. Draco said to George that she'd taken to reading a lot, since she'd been in hospital all the time, she had spent most of her time sleeping and reading.

George had taken her for a tour around the apartment, and shown her where everything was – the bathroom, the kitchen and the lounge, the study. There wasn't really very much in the house, but George felt as though it would help her out a bit to know her way around.

Lucius and Narcissa had to go see Gawain Robards to talk about lawyers and criminals and the like. The Malfoys were going to be giving evidence against the Death Eaters who had kidnapped and tortured their daughter. Whether or not Aurelia could give evidence at this stage was unknown. Draco, however, stayed and watched over Aurelia while George finished brewing his love potions and bottled them, labelled them and finished cleaning up the shop. Verity was interested in seeing Aurelia but was willing to keep her distance until everything had settled down properly.

As she was leaving the shop, George said to Verity, "Hey Verity, do you have any old books you don't read anymore? Like school books, stuff you kept from Hogwarts?"

Verity frowned. "Well, yeah. I guess, but they're probably not in very good condition. Why?"

"Well, you know Aurelia didn't get to finish her last few years of school," George said. "I thought maybe she could learn some stuff that she missed out on."

Verity nodded. "Sure thing. Hey, you can always ask Hermione to help her out, as well. Hermione would have been an awesome teacher if she wasn't so adamant about justice."

"That's a brilliant idea, Verity," George said, grinning. "What did I do to deserve an assistant as good as you?"

"I have no idea," she replied. "Goodnight, George."

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow."

So then George found himself standing in the kitchen, stirring the pot of rich, pumpkin soup when Aurelia walked into the room. George didn't see her for a moment, but she moved into the corner of his vision so she could get his attention.

"Oh, Aurelia," he said, "How are you doing?"

She gave him a timid thumbs up signal with her small hand. She quickly scribbled on her notepad and held it out to George, who took it from her.

_Draco's sleeping._

"Right," said George. "Did you want me to wake him up?"

She shook her head. Her shining eyes drifted to the soup, and George could see her smelling the sweet aroma. He grinned. "Did you want some?"

Aurelia nodded. George could see she was starving. She probably hadn't had much since she'd left the hospital. He filled a bowl to the top with the steaming soup and placed a few pieces of bread on a plate, taking them to the table for her while he waved his wand at the glasses on the table, and they were filled instantly with water.

George got himself some soup and moved to the table to sit opposite Aurelia, and she was eating the soup like she hadn't eaten in weeks. She still looked so thin, and in the dim light of the room George could see her scars still quite clearly. Aurelia looked up at him, staring at her, and he said, "Is the soup alright?"

Aurelia nodded animatedly. She picked up the quill and quickly scribbled on the notepad, sliding it across the table to George. _So much better than hospital food._

George laughed. "Well of course it is. If you like, I'll ask Mum to make some more. She's wonderful like that."

Aurelia smiled, picking up her glass of water to drink. George could see the marks on her hands and saw how her skin seemed to stretch, and noticed her wincing as her clothes caught onto the scars.

George spoke carefully, knowing he might upset her if he said anything wrong. "Aurelia, you can wear more comfortable clothes if it's better for your – for your injuries."

Aurelia paused, glancing up at him with a quizzical frown. George quickly added, "I mean, I have some shirts if you'd like to wear something that won't catch on your skin as much."

Aurelia hesitantly picked up her notepad, and wrote quite a bit. Her hand moved quickly and her writing was impeccably neat. She passed it to George and continued eating, waiting for him to respond.

_These clothes do hurt but I don't want to offend my mother. She went shopping for an entirely new wardrobe last week, because none of my old clothes fit._

"You won't offend her," George said gently. "Narcissa only wants what is best for you, and if you're hurting she won't mind you wearing a daggy old shirt and jeans every now and then."

Aurelia let out a small laugh, but only a breathy giggle. No sound came from her throat, as usual. Her smile was so pretty, and ever so contagious. George couldn't help but laugh too.

"Also, I asked my assistant Verity to bring some of her old school books around for you, so you can learn some things you might have missed out on," he said. "Also I might teach you how to make some potions, I need help in the shop during Valentine's season."

Aurelia nodded eagerly, snatching back her notebook to write. _I'd love to help, in any way I can._

George smiled. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

They had finished the soup off and started on the cherry pie Molly had left for George, and the scoop of ice cream didn't go uncalled for either. Aurelia greedily ate up the food, telling George how she had missed the taste of good food. George wondered what they'd given her to eat, when she'd been held captive. They must have fed her something – but he didn't ask. It was too soon.

Aurelia was halfway through her pie when she paled, and before George could ask what was wrong she leapt up to the kitchen and retched violently into the sink. George frowned, panicking – what was going on?

"Aurelia!" he said, "Merlin, are you alright? Have some water, here…"

She took a deep breath and washed her mouth out before she drank the water, her skin taking on a strange pallor as she tried to hold the rest of her stomach in. George couldn't figure out what had happened.

George was about to ask her if she was feeling particularly unwell when he heard someone speak from the doorway.

"She hasn't had cherry pie for years," Draco said calmly. "She's on a strict diet at the moment, because she can't stomach rich foods."

George's frown disappeared. "Oh. Right." He glanced down at Aurelia. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sick."

She waved her hand, telling him not to worry, and George knew his apology had been accepted. George turned to Draco. "Are you alright? You were asleep for quite a while."

Draco grimaced. "I'm alright. Just worn out."

"Did you want some dinner?"

"No, I'm alright thanks," Draco said, rubbing his tired eyes. "Have you heard from mother or father?"

George shook his head. "No, I haven't. But if you wanted, I could –"

Suddenly Draco let out a groan and grasped onto his forehead. "Draco, what's wrong?" George asked. What was it with all of his guests falling ill all of a sudden? He sure hoped he didn't have a malicious ghost hanging around.

Draco clenched his teeth. "Somebody breached the security at the manor."

"What?" George said, voice sharp. "What does that mean?"

Draco glanced at Aurelia. "Somebody is searching for her."

George looked from one Malfoy to the other, and he said, "We should go, we have to find out who it is. We can't –"

"We can't leave Aurelia alone," Draco said, voice taking on a commanding tone. "We have to stay here with her. Father would have felt the disturbance and he'll be at the Manor shortly if he isn't already. For now, we will stay here."

George hesitated before nodding, and turned to look at Aurelia whose eyes had become wider and face much paler again. She looked like she was trembling, and George said, "Aurelia, are you – are you okay?"

Draco stepped into the kitchen quickly and pushed past George. "Panic attack," he mumbled. "George, turn the lights on."

"What?"

"Put some more lights on, make the room brighter!" he demanded, struggling to keep his voice calm. "Do it now."

George fumbled for his wand and waved at the remaining candles and lamps around the room, which lit up brightly. Draco had gently taken a hold of his sister and led her to the couch near the window, and sat her down, kneeling in front of her and staying at eye level.

"Aurelia, are you alright?" he asked gently.

She nodded, but she was still shaking. Though her eyes were closed, George could see them flicking beneath her eyelids and her bottom lip was trembling as though she were about to cry.

Draco gently shushed her and brushed her hair back from her face, before taking her hands in his and speaking. "Aurelia, you're okay here. I've got you. You're never going back to that place, okay? I will always be here to protect you."

Suddenly, George understood. Draco wanted the lights on because it made the room feel less like the dungeon she had stayed in. He was getting her comfortable and talking to her to calm her down, because she was having flashbacks. She was suffering from her anxiety, her scars were deeper than her skin.

George sat down on the two-seater couch nearby, staying close but trying not to crowd her. He realised if he was going to live with Aurelia in his home, he would have to know how to keep her calm, too. He had calmed her in the hospital but she had been having a full on fit and they were desperate. Here, Draco was managing well enough on his own.

George had to know how to keep her safe, both from the evils of the outside world and the evils in her memories.


	28. Chapter 28

Firstly, many apologies for this chapter being so delayed. Term started again last week and on the weekend I went to a wedding, and now I'm sick and I've actually got time at home (I'm meant to be studying politics but we all know HP is so much more interesting than federal systems of government). So I'm here now and here it is, more apologies, etc etc, please review, thanks for reading :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty Eight_

The next day, George woke up early to continue brewing his potions. If he put on another batch at six in the morning, it would be ready by nine, and he could get another batch on at nine to finish at twelve. If he got everything ready on time and it all went smoothly, he could finish five batches today. That would put a dent in his workload.

Draco had stayed over the night before, after having received a patronus from Lucius informing him to do so, and letting them know that the Manor was safe again but they didn't know who breached the security. The Aurors were busy working on it, and were going to be stationed at the Manor during the night for the next few weeks to keep an eye out.

Draco explained to George after Aurelia had gone to sleep that she had to sleep with the lights on and that every night she needed to have ointment put on her wounds. He said he would stay for a while to look after her but George would have to do it should he not be around. George nodded, feeling a little too responsible but knowing it was necessary.

The transition from living alone to living with Aurelia had been relatively smooth, as far as George could tell. He thought it would be more difficult, but she mostly kept to herself, and Draco stayed with her for most of the day on Tuesday as well. George and Verity joined her for lunch, as Draco said he had to go visit Astoria's family that afternoon and had to leave.

Verity was a little surprised by Aurelia's quiet, mouse-like behaviour but she didn't let it bother her for too long. Verity might be slightly loud and snappy at times, but (deep down) she was really rather sweet, and she wasn't anything but kind to the younger girl. Verity talked to her about clothes and music, and Aurelia just sat and listened as she ate her sandwiches, writing down the odd question on her nifty little notepad.

It seemed to George that Aurelia was very likeable, perhaps even if she was simply not threatening. Compared to somebody intimidating like Adriana, say, Aurelia was positively gentle.

George's sandwich paused halfway to his mouth, which hung open as he suddenly remembered – _Adriana. _He hadn't even though about her since Sunday, let alone spoken to her or sent her an owl. The woman was certainly a mystery but even George knew she probably didn't appreciate not being spoken to.

George put his sandwich back down on his plate and walked out to the study, while Verity was still talking with Aurelia, cracking jokes and making Aurelia's breathy giggle chase George down the corridor. He sat down in the study, remembering for a moment the dark glint in Tabitha's eyes as she pointed her want at him, the memory causing chills to run down his spine.

He shook away the thought before he sat down and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment from the drawer, picked up the quill and tapped on the desk for a moment before he began to write.

_Dear Adriana,_

He stopped, scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it towards the bin. Whether it landed in the bin or not was unsure. George picked another piece of parchment up and pressed it against the wooden desk, dipped his quill in the ink and started again.

_To Adriana,_

_Sorry I didn't get back to you about getting together for dinner sometime. I've been rather busy the last few days, not to mention how busy the shop has been. Maybe we can meet up for lunch sometime._

_Hoping you've recovered, hope you don't get killed on a mission._

_George_

He stared at it, grimacing. He knew it wasn't very good, but he wasn't ever all that good at writing letters. It would have to do.

George looked around the room for Verity's owl, but it wasn't there. He remembered she had brought it to work today, though – he'd sent off orders for more vials and bottles this morning. Where had the bloody bird gone to?

He found it eventually, sitting on a shelf in a dark corner of the shop, having a pleasant sleep. He coaxed it down with a treat before giving the bird the letter and taking her to a window. She ruffled her feathers unhappily – clearly sick of all this flying around – but she took off, brown wings gliding elegantly through Diagon Alley to wherever Adriana was.

* * *

George got his reply mid-afternoon, and it was annoyingly short and sharp.

_George,_

_7pm tonight, dinner at Il Portico on High St in Kensington._

_Adriana._

Then again, it was Adriana. George wasn't quite sure what he was expecting.

* * *

George didn't spend too much time worrying about his clothing, but he supposed he should have. He wore semi-formal dinner clothes, straight black trousers, a white shirt, a red cardigan and a large black overcoat. It was still quite cold outside and he didn't know how long he'd have to wait for Adriana.

He had pre-arranged for both Draco and Narcissa to stay the night, with Narcissa staying in the extra bed and Draco staying until George got back from dinner. George had explained to them that it was merely a casual meeting and he shouldn't be too long, but he really wasn't sure what she wanted at all.

Grabbing his scarf on the way out, George took his wand and flooed to the safest place he could think of in a mostly muggle area – a toilet block at the tube station. Harry had explained the wonderful way to use the toilets to apparate to just about anywhere without being seen, and George took his advice and having conducted prior research, apparated to the tube station on the High Street of Kensington.

George also wasn't sure why Adriana had opted for a muggle restaurant but he knew she'd have a good reason. It might have especially lovely food, he mused. Always a good thing.

It didn't take him too long to find it, and he quite enjoyed just walking down the High Street and watching people hurrying by, or casually strolling like him, window shopping or dining, waiting for a taxi. Muggles were incredibly creative, considering they didn't have magic.

Waiting out the front of the cosy-looking restaurant, George glanced around. He couldn't see Adriana anywhere, and it was already five past seven. She didn't seem like the type to be fashionably late – just as he was thinking this he saw her walking down the street, almost forgetting to check the road before crossing and narrowly avoiding being hit by a mini-van. She wore a plain, knee-length pale blue dress and a small brown jacket, a cream scarf around her neck, her usually tied-up hair falling down her shoulders and back. She wore impressive heels, as usual, and stood above most people in the street, but still wasn't quite as tall as George. Not by much, anyway.

"Good evening, George," she said with a quick smile. "Glad you could make it."

"Glad I could too," he replied, "You look – lovely."

He was about to say different, but that wasn't quite right. He'd been expecting something much more formal from her, something sharp and dark and elegant. Her dress was pretty, her fashion more light-hearted. She was a little more juvenile – he couldn't quite put his finger on it. She was a little out of character but he didn't say so.

"Thankyou," she said, not noticing his hesitation. "Ready for dinner?"

They walked into the restaurant, not having to wait long before they took their seats. It was warmer inside, to George's relief, and he took off his jacket and scarf before sitting at a small two-seater table. The restaurant itself was oddly symmetrical, which George found unusual (probably because most of the times he went out for food he went somewhere in Diagon Alley – wizarding pubs don't have much taste for symmetry) but the air smelled of rich aromas, tomatoes and veal and pasta, herbs and Italian things George couldn't quite put his finger on.

"This is nice," he said. "Any reason for choosing a muggle place?"

Adriana shrugged. "Good food, cheap wine, nobody from the ministry."

"Ah. The perfect place, then."

Their waiter wandered over and politely asked them if they would like a bottle of wine and kindly read them the specials – although not quite so politely he did have a long look at Adriana which George noticed – before giving them their menus and going to get their drinks.

George looked at the menu and realised the only Italian food he actually ate was pizza, spaghetti and meatballs, and the occasional lasagne. He mused over the menu for a moment, and saw Adriana put hers back down on the table. She'd already ordered.

"I don't know what any of this is," George said, with a half-smile. She laughed at him, before she directed him towards something he would like, something that wasn't too odd or too spicy. George didn't like spices.

"The ravioli is good," she said. "Spinach and ricotta. It's classic."

"Is it the wrap one or the pockets of stuff?"

"The pockets, George."

So when the waiter returned with their drinks, and asked if they were ready to order, George went with the ravioli. Adriana ordered something with a long, complicated Italian name and the waiter went about his business after uncorking and pouring their wine.

George wasn't much of a drinker, at least he certainly hadn't for a while. He glanced at the red wine in the glass and wondered if he'd like it.

"Something wrong, George?"

George registered that Adriana had asked a question but didn't respond. He remembered the night after Fred's death, after all those deaths – he had gone home and opened a bottle of wine given to him by Charlie for his eighteenth birthday and drank it all in under half an hour. He had uncorked a bottle of champagne and drunk that, too. The firewhisky had gone, the rum drowned him out. He woke up a day later with the worst headache in his life, from a sick combination of tears and a hangover.

"George?"

He glanced up from the wine, to Adriana's frowning face, and he shook the memories away. "Nothing. Just – very good looking wine." He managed a smile before he took a sip, trying not to spit it back out.

Adriana was an Unspeakable, though. She was too good to trick. "Don't you like the wine?" she asked, her voice gaining back a little of its defensive tone.

"Not at all," replied George, putting his glass down. "I'm just – I haven't – drunk for a long time. Not wine, at least."

Adriana frowned again. "You don't drink?"

"I did drink. Too much," said George, his long fingers reaching out to touch the bottle of wine, turning it towards him to look at the label. "I had issues – after Fred died."

"You were an alcoholic?" said Adriana. "I didn't know that."

George gripped the neck of the bottle for a moment before he let it go, pushing it away. "Not many people do," he said. "I try not to – well, let's just say I try to keep it low profile." He gave a quick smile.

Adriana's eyes didn't look nearly as sharp and deadly as they usually did. In fact, George might have said she almost looked sympathetic. "Uncle Rufus was an alcoholic," she said, sadly.

George felt the same cold feeling from the hospital at the thought of Scrimgeour – Adriana didn't know that Aurelia was Rufus' daughter. The weight of the secret was weighing down on him like never before.

But nobody could know.

"Are you – recovered?" she asked carefully, raising a curious eyebrow.

"I should like to think so," George shrugged. "I go out to bars and clubs with Oliver and with my brothers every now and then. I just have to learn to keep it in check."

Adriana looked like she were about to take George's hand in hers before their dinner arrived, and to George's great relief, the conversation ended.


	29. Chapter 29

Don't hate me, I had exams. Final year of school, passing with good grades is hard these days. Sorry it's so late anyway, it's terrible of me but it's here now. Please enjoy :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Twenty Nine_

It was later that night when George returned, his hair slightly messier than when he had gone out. Draco wasn't awake by the time George had come home, and he assumed he had either gone home or was sleeping somewhere. George couldn't be bothered going to search for him. He threw his coat over the couch and sat down, hands behind his head. He was ever so slightly confused.

He'd asked Adriana to go for drinks in Diagon Alley after dinner, but she said she had to get home – and she had instead asked George back to her apartment. For some godforsaken reason, he agreed, but he still wanted to know why she wouldn't be seen in public with him. Perhaps she was scared of what other people would think, at least in the wizarding community.

That was probably why she chose a muggle restaurant, he thought with a sigh. She had, however, invited him to go to her birthday party the next week. So something good had come of it.

He was busy sorting through his thoughts when the kitchen light turned on. He sat up and turned, and saw Aurelia standing by the door. "Hey," he said, getting up, "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

She shook her head, her soft hair falling from where it was tucked behind her ear. She was wearing a long sleeved shirt and striped pyjama pants with thick socks for her cold feet.

"Can't you sleep?" George asked, frowning.

To this, Aurelia did not nod or shake her head, but she did grimace, and hold out her hand. George could see in the dim light there was a dark liquid on her skin. She was bleeding.

"Oh, Aurelia. What happened?" George asked, taking her hand in his and leading her into the kitchen.

Aurelia shrugged, watching while George took a box of bandages and medicines out of the top cupboard. He took out some ointment and after sorting through some dirty looking bandages, picked a relatively new one. He held her small wrist gently as he grasped a cloth and cleaned up the blood, before he placed a few drops of the healing potion onto the cut.

Aurelia took a small hissing breath as it stung her and George said, "Sorry, I should have warned you."

She shook her head and gave him a small smile, watching George carefully continue, his hands tentative as he wrapped the bandage around her hand, watching the blood soak into it.

"It doesn't hurt too much?" he asked as he pinned the bandage.

Aurelia shook her head again, and as George gently held her hand she didn't move, and for a second it was all quite calm and everything seemed okay – but then she pulled her hand away, cradling it to her chest, and George suddenly felt a little more aware of the situation.

Aurelia wasn't used to contact. He had to be careful.

"So," George said with a smile, putting his things away. "Did you have a good night?"

Aurelia nodded, before she frowned, looking around. She wanted something to write on. George pulled out his wand to accio her notebook, but as he pulled out his wand, Aurelia turned back around and saw the wand. Her eyes went wide and she flinched, moving backwards so fast she nearly fell over.

George jumped, the look of fear on her face making him feel scared. "Whoa, Aurelia, it's okay, look!" He placed his wand on the bench, and held his hands out to her. He could see her shaking.

"Aurelia," he said gently, "I'm not going to hurt you. I was just trying to get your notebook – I'm being lazy, that's all." He smiled, trying to reassure her.

Aurelia swallowed, her big pale eyes watching him. George could have sworn he could see his own reflection in those eyes. Her hand was at her mouth, covering her trembling lips, hair falling across her face.

"Aurelia, please, trust me," said George. "I know you're scared, and you've been hurt but I'm not the one you're scared of. Please."

He held out his hand to her and watched her eyes flick back and forth from his hand to his face, and then her hesitant hand moved towards his, and when she finally placed her hand in his and George felt the warmth of her skin, he felt relief.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently, voice low and quiet so as not to scare her.

She nodded, taking a deep breath, before she stared at him one last time, and walked away.

George let out a breath he had been holding and relaxed against the counter. He had to be more careful.

* * *

The morning came quickly for George, as he had slept deeply. He remembered having a dream but after ten minutes of being awake couldn't possibly recall what it had been about. It was still a bit dark outside and though he knew his sleep had been short he felt quite refreshed.

Thursday was a good day in the shop. It was the last day of January – two weeks until Valentine's Day. Most of the stock that they had ordered would be put out today, and most of the potions which were done would have to be put out on display and George would have to work double time to get it finished. It was a lot of effort but the results were worth it.

George threw off his sheets and wandered across the room to put on his dressing gown, knowing he'd need a shower as he glanced at the dirty clothes from last night on the floor. He hadn't been overly keen on going back to Aurelia's flat after dinner, but it had ended up being pretty haphazard and he didn't stay the night anyway.

He began to make his way down the hall to the bathroom, but George hesitated – his stomach was grumbling, audibly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper breakfast.

So George went back to his room and put on his tracksuit pants (to avoid any nasty kitchen accidents) before he began to make breakfast.

* * *

About ten minutes later, the smell of bacon, eggs and sausages had wafted throughout the apartment, and both Draco and Aurelia were sitting at the kitchen table with mugs of tea as George cooked breakfast, scrambling and frying eggs, toasting the bread, making sure the bacon didn't burn, or anything for that matter…

Out of the corner of his eye, George saw Narcissa wander in from the hall. "Good morning, Mrs Malfoy," George said cheerily. "Care for some eggs? Sausages, perhaps?"

Narcissa smiled politely but shook her head. "No thankyou, George. I'm afraid I must be off – I have to have a meeting with some business partners back at the manor." She turned towards her children and George watched her gently kiss Aurelia's hair, saying a few warm words to her before she left, and giving Draco similar treatment.

George smiled. He'd never thought he'd be so calm about having all these Malfoys around the place. God, back in high school he'd hated Draco so much, just because of his name, because of Slytherin, because it's what seemed right.

_Good thing we grew up, Georgie._

Fred's amused voice echoed through George's mind and it made him smile. Of course, George responded mentally, we wouldn't want us going backwards.

He almost expected Fred to respond, but realised that he had nearly burned the toast.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, jumping over to the toaster, to quickly save the bread. The toast was a little blackened but it was edible. George flipped the final few eggs and then he waved his wand, muttering a few small spells to get the food across to the table, where the hotplates were waiting for the pans to set themselves down. George carried over the knives, forks and plates, setting them down on the table before raising his hands and saying, "Breakfast is served!"

Aurelia gave him a small smile in thanks, and Draco said, "Brilliant, George. Thankyou very much." They proceeded to dig in, Aurelia a little more cautiously than the other two, but still eating a fair amount without becoming too sick.

"So how was last night, George?" Draco asked, taking a drink of his tea. "Have fun?"

George nodded. "It was alright."

"Who were you with?"

George chewed on his bacon for a little longer than he needed to, just to articulate his sentence properly. "Ah – it was… Adriana."

Draco's knife and fork fell from his hands. He managed to catch the fork but the knife clattered on the floor, making Aurelia jump in her seat. Draco quickly apologised and cleaned up the small mess he had made with his wand before continuing to eat.

Aurelia cast a confused glance at Draco, then at George, and a frown hovered over her eyes. George noticed and he said, "Don't worry, Aurelia. Draco was just – surprised. Adriana isn't particularly friendly, so her going on a date is unusual." George turned back to Draco and said, "And thankyou for asking, it was very enjoyable."

He thought the cover up was rather effective but Draco threw George a dark glare before continuing to eat. Conversation from that moment in was somewhat diminished.

* * *

It was later on in the day when George was in the store room, finishing off a few batches of love potions and pruning his pheromone-inducing roses when the door opened, and the brief sound of a busy shop drifted through the gap before the door was shut again.

George turned, and saw Draco. "Hey," he said. "Everything alright?"

Draco turned to face George, a frown on his sclupted features. "No, as a matter of fact. It's not."

George blinked, slightly taken aback. "Sorry?"

Draco walked down the steps towards George. "You went on a date with Adriana."

George forgot whatever he had been about to say, and he laughed. "Seriously? The last time I checked, you weren't dating her."

Draco's lip twitched. "Merlin, that's not the problem, George!" he said, voice a little too loud. "Don't you realise? She's Aurelia's cousin."

George sighed, putting down the beaker in his hand. "Yes, Draco, I have realised that much. I thought it was an issue to begin with, but honestly I don't think she's planning on keeping me around. She won't be seen with me in public – at least not in the eye of wizards – and she refuses to let me stay at her place, and doesn't visit me here. She doesn't want to be in a relationship. She's just –"

"Looking for satisfaction?" Draco asked, his tone cold.

George felt anger stir inside him. "Don't you start with that," he said. "It's none of your business."

"It's a conflict of interest," Draco hissed. "You can't look after my sick sister while you're fucking her secret cousin!"

What George did next was completely unexpected.

"Shut up!" he shouted, and Draco's narrowed eyes opened up in shock. George was shaking. "Don't you _dare _make me feel like I'm doing something terrible, don't suggest that I'm failing because I want to _feel _again!"

Draco had taken a step backwards and George felt his heart racing, his breaths uneven. He hadn't meant to shout but he was so _angry_, and he realised now it was because of Adriana. He wanted to feel comfort and care and warmth, not a short, cold relationship for her own amusement. He wanted to hold her hand when he walked down the street, not be given the cold shoulder when he saw her in public.

And it might not even have to be Adriana, it could be anybody – but George didn't have anybody. Not anymore.

"Get out," George hissed, feeling tears creep along the edge of his eyelids. "Leave me alone."

He turned back to his potions and listened to the sound of Draco leaving to go back upstairs as he shoved his fists into his eyes and tried not to cry, as he realised how very pathetic he was.


	30. Chapter 30

Sorry this took so long! Exams were happening, didn't get much time to post it. Was going to post it yesterday but got distracted by Pottermore :) I hope you guys had a marvelous Pottermore unveiling and I can't wait to get my next chapter up.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter 30_

"I hate Valentine's," said Verity with a very unimpressed glance at the Valentine's week uniforms for next week. George had ordered them in, as last year's had been lost in an unfortunate store room accident involving toads and a small chemical fire.

The new ones were very fancy. George's suit sported a crisp new bright red shirt, white trousers and a white jacket with love heart cufflinks. Verity's new outfit was similar but her dress was white with a small pink heart pattern and a bright red blazer.

"And you have to wear matching shoes," George commanded. "None of this commando-boot business for Valentine's Day. You're gonna be feminine and you're going to enjoy it."

"You mean I'm going to get a payrise," she grumbled, snatching the dress from him. George chuckled as she wandered out of the shop, the day finished. "Seeya, George. Have a good night."

"You too, Verity," George called after her. Yes, it was nearly Valentine's. It was a Saturday, and the official Valentine's week didn't begin until Monday but George and Verity were beginning their promotion a day early. The shop had shut earlier than usual this particular night because it was Adriana's birthday party and George had promised that he would make an appearance.

George locked the doors and turned the sign on the door around so it said 'closed' before he gathered up his new work uniform to take upstairs. Aurelia was sitting at the table, with a deck of cards, playing solitaire. Draco had gone out for a short while with Astoria to organise something for their wedding.

He was a little surprised when he found out Draco was engaged, but he supposed it might have been arranged. Then again George knew he shouldn't speculate, maybe they were in love.

George glanced at the card game, and asked Aurelia, "Winning?"

She let out a rather heavy sigh, and George took that as a no. He smiled, and said, "Are they normal cards or the ones I left on the counter?"

Aurelia pointed at the counter. George rolled his eyes. "Ah, that's why. They're losing cards, I'm trying out a new product. No matter what game you play, you can't win. But there's a small spell to change it… here, let me show you."

Aurelia watched him with careful eyes as George collected the cards and selected the four aces, laying them out before tapping his wand to them in order – hearts, diamonds, spades, clubs. The cards shimmered before they shuffled themselves and then were placed back on the table.

"There," he said. "Now it should work."

Aurelia gave him a small smile.

George threw his work clothes over the chair before going to put the kettle on. "Where did you learn to play solitaire? Did Draco teach you?"

Aurelia shook her head as she began to lay out the cards again.

"Verity?"

Again, she shook her head. Before George could reply, she had written a name on a piece of note paper and threw it at him from across the room, barely looking to see if her aim was true before returning to the cards. George unfolded it and frowned.

"Ginny taught you?"

Aurelia nodded.

George stared at the note once more before he threw it at the bin, pretending not to notice that he had missed. "Right. I didn't know Ginny had been in." He took over two cups of tea to the table, and saw Aurelia had written another word – '_yesterday_'.

"Huh," was the sound George made before he sat down. "So, what's in store for tonight?"

Aurelia picked up her quill (self-inking, to avoid mess) and wrote, '_Reading. I'm going through Draco's old schoolbooks._'

George nodded. "That sounds good. I'd give you some of mine but I didn't finish school anyway. I'm a less than reliable source."

Aurelia glanced at him, her big eyes watching for a moment before a small smile crept upon her face. George grinned back, but he was cautious. Initially he hadn't realised how very delicate she was – not only physically and emotionally, but sort of… psychologically. He found that if he spoke too much about school, Aurelia would get upset. She hadn't been able to go to school, like other kids at Hogwarts. George also had to make sure the lamps and lights were always working, because Aurelia was uncomfortable in the dark. He wouldn't call it a phobia but she became agitated and distressed when it wasn't light enough.

She tried very hard to pretend she was alright. Whenever George asked her if she was okay or needed help she would shake her head, smiling as if to say 'thanks, but I'm alright'. And as far as her medication went, she took all of the potions the hospital sent each week, and there was always one of her parents or Draco to help her with the lotion for her wounds. She was almost no bother at all.

George also realised she was extremely self-conscious. She hadn't seen herself in a mirror for years, and he knew from photographs she was an extremely pretty girl, and the last time she had seen herself she had been perfect, with her pure Malfoy skin and silky hair, slight curves, smiling eyes. Now her skin was scarred and burned, her body so skinny that she swam in her clothes, her beautiful eyes shadowy and cautious. He had also noted that her posture was terrible, but she had been curled up in a corner of a dungeon for so long he supposed it was just one of those things. She would get better, in time.

And hopefully one day, she would speak again, and begin to use magic once more, instead of just reading about it.

George watched her play her card game, her shaky fingers having difficulty picking up the cards. He frowned, noticing that she occasionally missed slightly – her fingers didn't go quite where she was trying to get them. She would reach for a card and miss by a few centimetres.

And George watched closely as she reached for her tea – and her fingers didn't quite get the handle. They missed, her palm touching the hot mug, making her jump.

"You okay?" he exclaimed, quickly putting down his mug. Aurelia nodded, touching her hand slightly before reaching for it once more, and getting it right.

George cautiously began to speak. "Aurelia, do you suppose that you need glasses?"

She looked back up at him with a surprised expression, eyebrows raised. George went on, "I mean, your depth perception isn't fantastic. I just don't want you hurting yourself. We could take you to the healers and see what they think."

Aurelia shrugged, and this translated roughly into, don't care, whatever you like. Her body language was subtle but George was beginning to understand her better.

"Okay. Well, you have a think about it… also, what do I wear to a high-end Unspeakable's birthday party? I'm going to get the prize for worst dressed there…"

* * *

Aurelia had timidly helped George pick out his outfit – he had invited her to rummage through his wardrobe. He knew she was on the right track when she walked straight past his knitted sweaters to the area where his suits were kept. Her hands were gentle as she moved the coat-hangers apart to look at the clothes. It almost looked as though she were studying them.

She picked for him a pair of plain black trousers, a black shirt from which George removed the creases with a quick wave of his wand, and a crimson waistcoat. She didn't pick a tie but George thought he liked the look – casual but stylish.

"Shirt tucked in or out?" he asked, walking into the kitchen where Aurelia was waiting.

She held up two fingers, which meant the second option. Shirt was to be left out.

George smiled. "Thanks, Aurelia."

She returned the smile, her pearly whites making George feel a little warmer. He hesitated, knowing he had to leave but not wanting to leave Aurelia on her own.

"Come on," he said. "One more cup of tea before I go, hey?"

* * *

The party was not at Adriana's flat, as George knew from the invite, but as he followed the directions on the invite and stepped out of the floo network into the front room of the house, he knew he was in some at some high-end place. The place was called Alderton Estate – the name rang a bell but he couldn't remember why.

The entrance hall was pretty impressive, but on a scale of The Burrow to Malfoy Manor it was a little closer to the Manor. The ceiling was higher-than-average and there was a large spiral staircase leading up to the second floor – George could hear a great deal of noise coming from there so he safely assumed that was where the party was being held.

He brushed himself down and made his way towards the stairs. Two young women, one in a soft floral dress and the other in a layered black one smiled at him as they passed, and he politely smiled back. He wondered how women could possibly walk down stairs in such ridiculous heels – Ginny said it was an acquired talent.

George wandered through the doors into a large room. There were clouds of balloons on the ceiling and small sparkling lights all around the otherwise dark room. The music was energetic without being too annoying, and the crowd was significantly large. George wouldn't have guessed that Adriana had this many friends, but he supposed she was fairly well known, and if she were to invite all of her work colleagues, family and friends, it would make a fair amount.

The dance floor and bar were fairly popular, there were a number of tables to sit at with piles of food to eat, and there was a fantastic range of dresses, suits and robes which swarmed throughout the room in a kaleidoscope of colour.

George couldn't see Adriana anywhere, and he was quite sure he didn't know enough people to just jump in on their conversations. He didn't feel like drinking, mostly because Oliver wasn't there and drinking by himself would make him sick.

There was a flash of golden eyes and flowing dark hair, and George thought he had found Adriana – but when she came closer he saw she was younger, had slightly different features.

"Hello there," said the girl, smiling with pearly white teeth as she stepped up to him. "You must be George Weasley."

George hesitated before he smiled and said, "Yes, that's me – and who might you be?"

"Janelle Scrimgeour," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Adriana's sister."

George raised his eyebrows as he shook her hand. "I didn't even know Adriana had a sister."

He could see the similarities – tall, pretty, dark haired and elegant. But she had her differences – her eyebrows were less slanted, her nose a little rounder. She also had perhaps a little less conservative fashion sense than her sister – Janelle wore a light silk dress, which hung loosely from her shoulders and gathered around the middle, but didn't reach her knees. The colour was a sort of drab green colour, what an interior designer might call 'natural olive' or 'dark viridian green' or something like that, but it looked surprisingly attractive considering it was such an odd shade.

Janelle gave a small chuckle. "Clearly I'm not worth talking about. Care for a drink, George?"

They wandered over to the bar, and George found Janelle to be entirely different to Adriana. She was overly chatty and friendly while her sister was often distant and gave an excellent cold shoulder. Janelle was, as it seemed, a fair bit more of a social butterfly than her sibling.

"So, you and Janelle met on that Malfoy case, I believe?" Janelle asked, though it didn't really seem like much of a question anyway, seeing as she already knew.

"Ah, yes," George said. "She was the – um – some kind of investigator. She's fairly thorough." He was trying to find the right words.

"Thorough?" Janelle repeated, mulling over the word, "That's a nice way to put it." She smiled, almost cheekily. George found it amusing to see what was the equivalent of a mini-Adriana acting so childishly.

They ordered their drinks – Janelle asked for some sort of cocktail, which was called a Pixie something, and George asked for a butterbeer, earning him an odd glance from the bartender, but who filled up his glass nonetheless. Clearly this was a high-end drinking operation and butterbeers were frowned upon… but George didn't want to drink anything heavy.

"So, Adriana talks about me, does she?"

Janelle shrugged in response, taking a sip of her cocktail. "I suppose. She has mentioned you a few times."

George smiled, and Janelle noticed. She opened her mouth to speak, but then George watched her eyes notice something behind George, and she snapped her mouth shut again. She blinked, and then exhaled, and said, "Act casual George."

"What?"

"Casual," she hissed. "I don't have time to explain. I'll get you out of here soon, just… casual."

"What? I don't understand…" he began, but then he heard a voice say his name, and he turned.

Adriana looked beautiful. She wore the most stunning silver dress, and her hair was long and wavy, falling like a perfect waterfall. Her eyes picked up every sparkle of light. Her lips were dark pink. She looked like a vision of perfection – but her eyes were worried, her lips set in a straight line.

And then George saw the man standing next to her.

"George," Adriana said again, trying to smile. "I'm glad you came. Um, this is –"

Before she could finish her sentence, the man grinned and held out his hand to shake, which George took as he said, "Jacoby Alderton – I've heard so much about you George."

George hesitated, the pause heavy as he noticed a worried glance pass between the sisters. "You have?" he said, a little surprised.

"Well, yes," he said, and then George felt numb as he saw Jacoby wrap his arm around Adriana's waist, and then said, "After all, I want to make sure I personally know all of my fiancée's friends."

The glass George was holding in his hand fell to the floor with a frightening shatter.


	31. Chapter 31

I changed the rating to M, because of some more serious themes and stuff... not to mention all the implied intimate happenings and the odd swear word that has been dropped in. But the themes are getting all serious and I thought it would be appropriate to make it mature. Besides, it's not like anybody actually pays attention to ratings anyway.

Hope you like the chapter.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirty One_

The steps seemed to fall away from under his feet as George went downstairs, nearly falling. His head felt heavy and a deep rage swelled within him, and it was taking all of his strength to contain it. He couldn't believe it. He could hardly even think.

"George, wait!"

Her voice was strained, and he heard her running down the stairs, but George didn't wait. He didn't want an explanation, or an apology. He didn't want her sympathy, and he certainly didn't want her attention any more.

George grasped a dirty handful of floo powder and stormed through the violent green flames.

* * *

The lounge room was vacant of the Malfoys when George stepped out of the fireplace. He took a few steps into the room, turned, stopped, clenched his fists and then put his head in his hands before his long leg kicked out at a nearby chair, which toppled over and hit the wall.

George let out a shaky breath, and he heard footsteps from the hallway. He grasped his wand and disapparated downstairs, to the store room, where he moved to the back of the room to the store cupboards, and the uppermost shelf – where Fred used to stash his alcohol. Among many other things in the store room, like Fred's cauldron, quill and stool, it was one of the things which had barely moved. George knew there was a bottle left because Verity had told him if he hadn't stopped drinking she would quit.

But Verity wasn't there and everybody else was playing card games, at parties, looking after tired husbands or busy with wedding plans. There was nobody there to talk to him, speak meaningless words which would only make him feel worse.

It was just George and the last bottle of firewhisky.

_And me, mate, _Fred's voice echoed in George's mind. _Think you'd drink my booze and get away with it?_

George felt his eyes well up and an angry tear burned its way down his cheek. "Never stopped me before, Freddie," he whispered, before smashing off the cap and drinking.

* * *

The bottle was nearly drained, and George felt numb. He felt heavy and unbalanced, dizzy even though he was sitting down, leaning against the cupboards, one arm hanging limp on the floor while the other held onto the bottle leaning against his leg. His eyes were red and unfocused, his breath stank and his hair hung over his face as he slouched.

The thoughts running through his drunken head were pretty repetitive – 'how could I be so stupid', 'why did she do this to me' and 'why am I so pathetic' were fairly common, while the odd 'I hate myself' and 'I hate the world' slipped in there every now and then.

And then, as another mouthful of whisky scorched down his throat, George mumbled aloud, "Help me out, Freddie. I'm fucked up."

Never before had George been drinking, and wanted to talk to Fred. His alcohol abuse had been because he wanted to forget about the pain he had felt from losing Fred – and now he wanted him back, more than ever, to help him fix his problems and figure out what to do. What good was being in a team if your teammate isn't there anymore?

George felt a tear crawl down his cheeks. He had thought he was done with the tears. He wiped the tear away with a rough palm.

A moment later, a soft light drifted through the storeroom door, but George's delayed reaction was to cover his eyes, because it was too bright for him. He groaned and rested his face in his hand, and he heard the sound of soft footsteps but didn't register that there was somebody looking for him. He wanted to be alone.

He heard the footsteps stop, and he felt a soft touch on his arm, gently tugging on his sleeve to move his hand from his face. George groaned, trying to speak but unable to do so. His hand was removed and his eyes opened, taking far too long to refocus, but when they did, he saw big pale eyes and blonde hair, scarred skin blurry in his vision.

"'Relia?" he murmured, and he felt her grasp onto his hand. "What – why're you here?"

* * *

Aurelia had gone looking for George when he didn't arrive back at the apartment at eleven, like he had said he would. Narcissa was there but she was asleep by about ten, like she usually was, and Aurelia had stayed up reading, just waiting to make sure George was coming home.

When he didn't, she had gone looking for him. She'd never been downstairs to the shop before – she hadn't left the apartment at all since she'd arrived, actually. The shop was huge and daunting, the products staring down at her as she searched for him. She'd found him when she had heard the sound of the bottle hitting the stone floor.

The store room was dark and when she'd opened the door, the light from the single lamp by the stairs had shone inside, and Aurelia had heard the groan from the back corner of the room. She had moved slowly, not knowing where she was going, until she found George slumped in the corner, against the cupboards.

Aurelia's tiny hand held onto one of his, and then she took the bottle away from the other hand, her movements tentative, gentle. George let the whisky slip from his grasp, hand falling to the cold stone floor. She then tried to pull him to his feet, but she was nowhere near strong enough, and he was too big.

"No – don't," George mumbled, "I don't – I'm staying here."

Aurelia shook her head, tugging on his arm. George pulled his arm away, in his drunken state forgetting how light she was and making her fall on top of him. Aurelia's mouth opened in surprise, finding her arms and legs tangled with George's, trying desperately to get back up again as George swore, saying "Oh, shit – I'm – I'm sorry…"

Aurelia's movements were shaky as she got up off him, standing up again, but George grasped onto her jeans, and he whispered, "Stay here, Aurelia. You – you won't hurt me."

She hesitated. Aurelia didn't know what to do. She wanted to go get her mother, tell her to get one of George's brothers or even Draco to come and help – but how could she leave George while he was like this, while he was begging her to stay?

His hand on her leg loosened and dropped to the floor, and it was only a few seconds after that Aurelia slowly kneeled down beside him, and she stared at him, taking him in, in all of his drunken glory. His hair was messy, his lovely shirt now creased, his eyes red. Why was George hurting? Aurelia thought he was strong, unbreakable. He had saved her – nothing could possibly hurt George.

Unfortunately, she was wrong, and she hadn't realised it till then. Nobody was invincible.

Timidly, she reached for George's limp hand and took it in hers, and waited for a moment for him to respond.

_You have to speak, _the voice in her mind whispered, _you have to tell him it will be okay_.

Aurelia opened her mouth but no words came out, and before she could try again George's hand was squeezing hers and he said, "I miss him so much."

She blinked. That was unexpected. George glanced up at her with his shimmering green eyes and he said, words tumbling from his lips, "He'd know – know what to do. He wouldn't be so bloody stupid."

Aurelia's memory flashed images of the twins, seeing them in Diagon Alley or at Hogwarts – she was in first year when they were in their fifth. She remembered being told by Draco and the other Slytherins that the Weasleys were a disgrace. Until the war, she had believed them, but once she had sat in the same room as Voldemort and been made to listen to people screaming in her own house, she didn't know what to think. She didn't know who was more of a disgrace.

And now she was here, her existence depended on this man, her safety, her happiness – she needed to fix him.

But she couldn't move him and she didn't know what potion would help him get better. So Aurelia let go of his hand briefly to run upstairs and get some rugs, coming back to sit herself down on the floor beside him, laying one rug on the floor for him to lay on and another across his body, laying his head down on her lap so he could sleep.

* * *

When George's eyes opened they were dry, his eyelids sticking together, dry sleep in the corner of his eyes. He felt his head resting on something soft, and though he was on the floor he felt warm. He blinked for a moment, feeling the pulse of a headache, a hangover rearing its ugly head.

George groaned, his throat dry and hardly making any sound. He felt movement under his head, and realised there was somebody there. He looked up, trying to focus, and then he saw her.

"Aurelia?" he croaked. "What – where am I?"

She didn't respond, and when George sat up he nearly fell back down again as the blood rushed from his head, his vision blacking out. Her small hands struggled to keep him upright, but George grasped onto the cupboard and waited for his sight to clear.

He was in the storeroom, and as he glanced around he realised it was morning, and he saw the empty bottle of firewhisky on the floor nearby. He rubbed his eyes, struggling to remember – and then he did.

Adriana.

Another painful groan escaped his throat as he pressed his face into his hands. He stayed like that for a while, and then he felt warmth again as Aurelia wrapped the blanket over his shoulders.

"Thankyou," he said quietly. She sat next to him, watching him as he slowly regained consciousness. He felt too ashamed to look at her.

He cleared his throat and asked her, "Did you – did you stay down here with me?"

Aurelia nodded, brushing back a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"All night?"

She paused, and nodded again.

George sighed, shaking his head. "I – I am so sorry, Aurelia. You shouldn't have – should have felt like you had to stay with me. I –"

His words faltered when he felt her hand on his arm, and he turned towards her. Her eyes were worried, but he noticed something else – she was shaking. She was only wearing a long-sleeved shirt and her pyjama pants, and a thin pair of socks. It had been warm upstairs. She'd been on the cold storeroom floor all night.

"Oh, Aurelia, you're freezing," George breathed. He stood up, balanced himself by holding onto the counter and he took Aurelia's hand in his, walking out of the storeroom to take her back upstairs.

When George walked out into the shop, he prepared himself for a mad dash to the stairs – but there was nobody there. He heard a noise from above, on the second level of the shop, and saw Verity glance down at him from the walkway.

"Verity?" George asked, "Where is – where is everybody?"

She raised an eyebrow, and George knew she was upset with him. "Customers, you mean?" Verity asked. "They're not here. The shop is shut for restocking."

George knew they had restocked for Valentines the day before, so she was lying. But she was saving his skin. "Thankyou, Verity," he said, looking away before he could be any more embarrassed.

Aurelia's hand still clung onto his as he took her upstairs. Narcissa was still asleep – she did enjoy her beauty sleep. George was grateful for that, because otherwise he'd have to explain to her why Aurelia had spent all night in the freezing storeroom. He sat Aurelia down on the couch, ignoring his pounding headache as he flicked his wand at the fireplace, lighting the fire with a quick spell, before he threw the rugs over her and wrapped her up tight.

"I'll make you tea," he said, "A hot mug of tea, and a bowl of porridge for breakfast."

Aurelia grasped onto his arm as he went to stand up, and he stopped to look at her. The look in her eyes was one of concern – she was still worried about him.

He kneeled down in front of her, and he put his hands on her shoulders, and he said, "Aurelia, what I did last night was – was terrible, and I don't deserve your sympathy, or your concern."

George took a breath, before he gently touched his warm hand to Aurelia's cheek, and he said, "I'm meant to look after you. Not the other way around."

Aurelia blinked, before she nodded, and George went to make her breakfast.


	32. Chapter 32

This one got a bit long. But oh well. Have fun reading :) and thanks so much to everybody for reviewing, I'd like to thank you all for your amazing reviews, they made me smile so much! Here is your reward! Haha :) and sorry in advance... for cliffhangers... haha.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirty Two_

George filled his lungs with air and not for the first time that day, he raised his arms, put a big grin on his face and announced loudly, "Welcome to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and welcome to our extraordinary Valentine's Day sale! For the ones you like get giggle fragrance and love potions – for the ones you don't like, get some exploding flowers and our special Valentine's edition Puking Pastilles!"

His shoulders slouched and he took another breath, thinking about how much easier his life would be if he hired somebody else to yell at customers for him.

The shop was incredibly busy. Their Valentine's Day products were selling fast but George had so many potions left over, and what seemed like a never-ending supply of illness-inducing sweets and various exploding products. George knew that at the end of the week he would swear he would be shutting down the shop for good, because that's what he said every year.

But apart from Halloween, Valentine's was the highest-paying season of the year. He couldn't afford to not endorse it.

George turned to see how Verity was going – she had donned the festive uniform but had refused to do her hair or wear heels. She was wearing combat boots. George was past caring, though. She did have to stand up for a very long time.

She tilted her head upwards to shoot a death glare in George's direction before turning back to her next customer with a polite smile. George shook his head but chuckled to himself, before remembering that Fred used to tell him not to chuckle – it made him sound too much like Arthur.

"Excuse me," somebody said behind him, "Could you tell me where to find the Canary Creams?"

George turned, and almost didn't recognise the girl in a daggy sweater and jeans, hair messily tied back. She smiled. "I can't seem to find anything but love potions."

"Janelle," George said, suddenly. "You look different."

"I'm incognito."

"Really?"

"No. I'm just nowhere near as fashionable as my sister."

George nodded, trying not to grimace. "Right. Did she – have a, uh, nice party, then?"

Janelle shrugged. George knew she was uncomfortable.

"Look," she said, "Adriana wants to meet you. She's owled you, but you haven't replied to any of her letters."

"That's because I've been throwing broken extendable ears at her owl every time he comes through my window," George grumbled, turning away.

"George –"

"Look, tell your sister –" George began, having to take a breath before he continued, unable to face Janelle, leaning on the barrister. "Tell her I'm over it. I don't want to see her again, I don't want to speak to her. She ruined any chance she had when she lied to me, not to mention I feel terrible for Jacoby."

Janelle's open mouth snapped shut.

George shook his head, trying to control his anger. "I mean, how many times has she cheated on Jacoby?"

Janelle shook her head and took a step towards George, stammering as she tried to explain. "No, you don't understand –"

"Stop it!" George said, raising his voice and earning a surprised glance from a passerby. George controlled his voice again, hissing, "She doesn't understand. You don't understand. I didn't want – casual sex. I didn't want – _temporary. _Adriana has nothing for me anymore."

Janelle's eyes became sad, as she realised she was fighting a lost cause. "Okay," she said, quietly. "I'll let her know that." She sighed, turning to leave. "Thanks, George."

George ran a hand through his hair, before he said, "Janelle?"

She turned back. "Yes?"

"Canary Creams are next to the counter."

* * *

The day had finally ended – George was tired and worn out. He really needed to hire a new worker. Ron had been his helper during the popular seasons but now that he was a fully fledged Auror he didn't have time to help out for a week straight anymore.

George needed a new worker. He'd put up some notices around town soon.

He trudged upstairs, shrugging off his coat and unbuttoning his vest as he went. "Honey, I'm home," he called out jokingly to an imaginary wife. When he heard no reply, he muttered, "Oh yeah, forgot. I'm single."

George wandered through to the main room, rummaging around the kitchen to see what could be had for dinner.

"George?"

He turned, and saw Draco standing in the door way. "Oh, hello, Draco," George said. "Feeling peckish?"

"A little," Draco replied, moving inside the room. "See George, I was going to ask if I could take out Astoria to dinner tonight –"

"Don't ask me, I'm not your mother."

Draco sighed, a little exasperated but trying to hide it. "I hadn't finished speaking," he muttered. "Anyway, my parents can't make it here to look after Aurelia tonight. They – they have to go speak to the Aurors again."

George turned. "Oh. Right. So…?"

"I thought maybe Astoria could come here for dinner," Draco said, a little awkwardly. "She was a good friend of Aurelia's at Hogwarts. They were in the same year. I thought… maybe it might be good for her. For them to catch up."

"Right," George said. "Is that how you and Astoria met, then? Through Aurelia?"

Draco nodded, and George noticed a soft smile, something which was rare to see on the Slytherin boy's face. "Yes," he said quietly. "She would come over during the holidays, and when – when Aurelia was lost, she would come over anyway, to see if there was any progress. She was good company."

George couldn't help himself – he winked and said, "Oh, I'm sure she was."

"Shut up!" Draco said, his cheeks turning slightly pink, before he realised George was joking as the red-head laughed.

"Yes, that's fine Draco," George said. "I'll find something to make – maybe I should get take-out."

"Take what?"

"Take-out," George said. "Muggles do it all the time. You order food from a restaurant but bring it back home. You know, pizza, Chinese, fish and chips. Whatever takes your fancy."

Draco nodded hesitantly. "Those foods sound a little rich. Will Aurelia will be okay eating them?"

"I'm sure it will be fine," George said. "I mean, fish and chips might be a little greasy. But Chinese might be okay – satay chicken and rice would go down okay."

"Sounds good, then," Draco mused, frowning at the prospect of trying out a muggle dining style. "I suppose that could work."

George nodded, and reached for the take-out menus from the top of the cupboards.

"Hello, Jade Dragon restaurant…"

* * *

About three quarters of an hour later, Aurelia and George were sitting at the table with a chessboard – George had thought it would be a good idea to teach Aurelia how to play, until he realised she would have to speak to make the players move.

But to his surprise, Aurelia only had to touch the small figurines with a fingertip for them to understand what she wanted them to do. George wondered if she was able to communicate with some kind of silent magic – that she could tell the little men what they had to do without actually having to speak. George thought this would be a wonderful tactic in a professional game (against Ron, of course).

They had nearly finished their game when Draco entered the room, holding the hand of a young, pretty girl with russet brown hair and dark green eyes. She was certainly beautiful, and incredibly symmetrical. She wore a pair of loose charcoal-grey trousers and a smart white blouse. George stood, and said, "Hello, you must be Astoria," before shaking her hand gently.

"Hello, George," she said, glancing around the cosy room, before giving a small smile. "I'd always wondered what it was like above the shop."

"Well, now you know," George said, smiling back.

"Yes, I –" she began, but her words disappeared as her mouth remained open, her eyes more than a little shocked. George turned and realised that Aurelia had stood and turned to face them.

"Aurelia?" Astoria said quietly, slipping her hand from Draco's and stepping towards her.

Aurelia's eyes were wide as she stared at her old friend, her Hogwarts companion. Astoria lifted up her hand, reaching out to her friend – and then Aurelia jumped.

George flinched, thinking Aurelia had run away – but then he stopped, as he saw the small Malfoy girl latching onto Astoria, her arms wrapped around her tightly as she sobbed into her shoulder.

Astoria's arms wrapped around her friend after the initial shock, and rocked her back and forth, tears escaping from the corners of her eyes as they clung to each other. "I missed you Aurelia," she said, a small smile on her lips. "I'm so glad you're safe."

George glanced at Draco and they shared a relieved smile.

* * *

A small while later, after George had made a quick trip to a nearby Chinese restaurant in London, they were sitting around the table with a grand selection of dishes in small paper boxes, their plates piled up with food. George had ordered enough for about seven people, knowing that if there were leftovers he would eat them for lunch the next day.

Astoria took a while to get used to Aurelia not talking – she had to learn to ask yes or no questions, and continue talking without needing prompts or replies. Astoria talked about the students in their year and what they were up to these days – Catherine was studying to be a Healer, and Leon was working for his dad at their real estate company, and was going out with a muggle girl named Jackie... That sort of thing.

Aurelia smiled and nodded, and George noticed she was careful to only eat small amounts of the rich, deep-fried foods and she stuck mostly to rice, satay and vegetables. She was doing marvellously – he had noticed she'd put on weight since she'd arrived, but was still a little underweight.

"And – and Draco and I are getting married at the end of the year," Astoria said, with a gentle smile at Draco who sat beside her, and he smiled back.

"We were wondering – well, Astoria was wondering, now that you're with us again…" Draco said carefully, before being interrupted by his excited fiancé.

"Would you be my maid of honour?" Astoria blurted out, unable to contain the words.

There was a few seconds of silence, and another moment of silence but this was filled by a smile which lit up Aurelia's face, her scars becoming almost invisible as she did so.

That was a yes.

* * *

Later on, when Draco had left to take Astoria home, George was cleaning up the dishes when Aurelia entered the room and sat at the table, watching him. He smiled and said, "That was a nice night. I'm glad you got to see your friend again."

Aurelia smiled. George continued to scrub at the dirty plates, saying, "It's great that you're going to be able to go to the wedding. By December, you'll be fit as a fiddle. And you'll get to be involved with all the fancy dresses and decorations and flowers and stuff. How exciting!" he squealed in a girly voice.

Aurelia let out a small breathy laugh.

George placed the last few dishes on the drying rack and let out the water. He knew he could do it with magic but he found it relatively calming, not tedious like Draco did. George realised that it was mostly half-blood wizards or muggleborns who took more time to do chores around the house manually, rather than with magic. It did get you back down to earth.

George watched Aurelia scribble down something on her notepad. He wandered over and picked it up, and it read _Could I ask for your help?_

"Of course you can. What do you need help with?"

Aurelia didn't make eye contact with him as she took the notepad back from him, giving it back once she had written, _I need you to help with the medicine for my scars._

"Oh right," George said. "The lotion, for your skin." George hadn't done it before and usually Aurelia waited for Draco or one of her parents to help her, but it was late and Draco still wasn't back yet.

George smiled gently. "Of course I'll help. Are you – okay with me doing it?"

Aurelia nodded slowly. George could see she was a little uncomfortable with the idea but there was no way she could go to sleep without looking after her skin.

"Alright then," he said. "Well, you show me where the stuff is and I'll follow your lead. I'm not sure what to do so…"

His sentence faded as she wrote down on the page, _I only need you to help with my back. The rest I can do._

"Sure," said George. "Lead the way."

George followed Aurelia through to Fred's old room. It looked nice now, even if the dark purple walls and royal emerald bed sheets didn't quite match. Aurelia went to the drawer beside the bed, and took out a large jar of lotion.

George let Aurelia lead him – she timidly beckoned him over and sat him down on the bed, opening the jar and putting it down on the bedside table. She turned away, and pulled her sweater over her head. She wore a simple black singlet underneath – George had never seen her without sleeves. Her arms were patchy with burned skin, scars and healing scabs. Aurelia sat on the bed beside George, and picked up the jar, and showed him what to do.

Though it was a clear brown, and looked suspiciously like custard, the consistency of the lotion was quite smooth, almost like a light mousse. Aurelia took a small amount in her hand and gently rubbed it into the skin of her arm, showing George what she needed him to do.

George nodded, and gave her a reassuring smile. "Okay. Whenever you're ready, Aurelia."

She didn't smile back, but only stared at him for a moment before she turned her back to him and lifted her singlet over her arms, exposing her bare back. George took a moment to observe her skin – it was, like the rest of her, patchy and scabby, but there were long, thin marks across her pale skin, like they were from a whip. Her spine was sticking out a little from her skin. George took a small breath, telling himself to stop being so rude.

He took a small amount of the lotion in his hand and tentatively held it above her skin. "Ready?" he said, and she nodded. George closed the last inch and he applied the first small amount. Aurelia shifted slightly from the cool temperature of the lotion – her skin, though rough, was incredibly warm. George found himself intrigued. The texture was simply enchanting – he found it so strange that parts of her were so perfect and smooth, while others were ruined beyond repair.

He felt sad as he administered the medicinal lotion. He sighed, and said quietly, "I wish I could – I could just magic your scars away."

Aurelia's back stiffened slightly as he said that. George quickly blurted out, "Not – not that they're ugly. I mean, you're just – you shouldn't be in pain. You don't deserve that."

Her head shifted as though she were about to turn around to face him, but she didn't.

"I'm sorry I lost you at the castle," said George, in a small whisper. "None of this would have happened if I'd kept you with me."

He finished the last section of her skin, and saw how quickly it was absorbed. It left her skin shimmering, sparkling in the dim light. He waited for a moment, watching as the last part sunk in, and then Aurelia pulled her shirt back over her head and turned to face George.

Her eyes weren't wide, which meant she wasn't scared or uncomfortable. She wasn't frowning, so she wasn't confused. She was blank. George frowned, about to ask what was wrong, when she reached out with a gentle hand and took his, squeezing gently.

"Is that a thank you?" George said, his small smile only lasting for a moment.

Aurelia shook her head, then nodded, and she opened her mouth, and for a moment George was sure she would speak. But then she simply smiled, and squeezed his hand again, before she moved towards him, and gently placed her head on his shoulder, exhaling a small breath as she rested on him.

George rested his hand carefully on the back of her hair, not thinking of any words to say. The silence was comfortable.

Until there was an ear-splitting smash, and somebody crashed through the window.


	33. Chapter 33

Hah, sorry for cliffhanger! But totally worth the suspense :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirty Three_**  
**

George leapt from the bed, and immediately shoved Aurelia behind him. The cloaked figure who had landed in the room stood up, and George's eyes widened. The man was huge, a monster. He was taller than George, at least six foot four, with broad shoulders and a huge jaw with a sadistic grin on his face.

"Found ya, girlie," he said, and George felt Aurelia's hand grasp onto his shirt. She was terrified.

George didn't have his wand – he had left it on the bedside table. He had nearly begun to panic when he felt Aurelia's other hand touch his, and he felt his wand slip into his palm. He grasped it and raised it, pointing it at the intruder.

George saw another hand grasp onto the window sill, just as he pointed his own wand at the window, thought of Fred as a child in the mud and yelled, "_Expecto Patronum!"_

The shimmering silver fox knocked the second intruder from the window sill on its way out, and George heard a yell as the man desperately clung to the sill, broken glass digging into his palm.

George saw the second man raise his wand and he quickly flicked his wand at him, saying "_Stupefy_!"

The man deflected the spell with a quick movement, his wand held up high as he raised his eyebrows and said, "My, my, not so friendly tonight."

"It's not polite to rock up uninvited," George spat, before he and the man, who he presumed was a Death Eater, became locked in a duel, their wands moving quickly and firing bright sparks, red, green and blue, like a fireworks show but a little more deadly.

George saw the second man crawl through the window, and only just managed to conjure a shield for a spell launched by the first. George bit his lip, worried – he knew the Death Eaters would have no reservations for his safety, or that of his house. They could set the place on fire and care less. They just wanted to take Aurelia.

George tried to block the spell being sent his way but only succeeded partially – George felt a gush of cold and gritted his teeth and tried to hold back a cry as he felt something slash open the skin of his right arm, his wand arm. It felt like somebody had cut him with a cleaver.

He saw the second man draw his wand and he was about to fire a spell when he felt Aurelia move behind him, and a book went flying toward the man, making him lose his balance for a moment as he dodged the object. George took his chance to yell, "_Expelliarmus!"_

When the wand had gone flying from his hand, George heard a voice yell from the door.

"_Incarcerous!"_

George didn't have to turn around to know that Ginny had arrived, and he turned to pull Aurelia into his arms, and he conjured a shield to protect them both. She clung to him, knuckles white as she did so, and George held onto her tightly, and he whispered, "It's okay, it's okay, I've got you." He tried to breathe calmly his arm throbbed with pain, hot blood beginning to soak his shirt.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Petrificus totalus!"_

The room fell quiet, but for the mumbling of the first man, bound by ropes from Ginny's spell. George heard another sharp crack from a wand and the man fell quiet.

"George," said Harry, putting his hand on George's shoulder, and the shield disappeared with a soft hush. "It's okay, it's over."

George loosened his grip on Aurelia but did not let go. He tried to control his shaking voice as he said, "I take it you got my patronus, then?"

George glanced around the room, and saw not only Harry and Ginny, but also Ron and Hermione, too. "Caught us during dinner," said Ron. "We didn't think – well, I guess you caught a few Undesirables for us."

"Who are they?" asked George.

Ron prodded the tall blonde man with his foot. "This guy's name is Rowle," he said. "He was a big supporter of Voldemort but never made it into the inner circle. The other guy – I think his name is Avery. I'm not sure though. But he's certainly not here to stop and smell the roses," Ron snorted.

Hermione took a step towards them as Harry went over to Ron, where the unconscious two men laid in the other corner of the room. "Oh, George, you're hurt," she said, lifting her wand to his gash, and saying in her clear, confident voice, "_Vulnera sanentur,_" and George gasped as the wound closed quickly, a feeling not unlike a painful cramp contorting his arm for a moment before any feeling went away, and he was left with nothing but a scar.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

Hermione gave a small smile. "Anytime," she said. She then glanced around his shoulder, at Aurelia, and said, "Are you okay?"

Aurelia stared up at George, before she nodded, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his chest. He put his hand on the back of her neck and said, "She's okay. Just scared."

"You should probably send a patronus to her parents," said Ginny, who walked across the room and flicked her wand at the window, watching the slivers of broken glass collect themselves and with a few clinks and a shimmer, the window repaired itself.

George lifted his wand but he sighed, and said, "I'm – I'm tired. Harry, could – could you please…"

Harry's patronus had left the room before George could finish his sentence, the flash of silver light making him close his eyes. "They should be here soon," said Harry.

George nodded. Ron turned towards them. "Harry, we should get these guys out of here," he said, "There's a prison in Azkaban with each of their names on it."

Harry nodded. "Usually we'd have to consult Robards but I guess we have to make an exception." He turned to George, and he said, "We'll be back later with Robards to finish our investigation – but for now, we'll need you to go somewhere else. A safehouse."

"Where?" George said, "We can't go to the Malfoy Manor, we can't go to your house –"

"The Burrow," said Ginny. The others turned to look at her. She shrugged, and said, "There isn't really a safer place. Mum is always there, and they wouldn't mind having visitors."

"She's right," said Hermione. "Even if it is a bit – predictable. For now, it's the safest place you can be."

George looked at Aurelia, and he thought for a moment, before he said quietly, "Would you be okay with that? I'll go stay with you for a while. You'll be safe there."

Aurelia didn't reply, and didn't look up at George. Her face was still buried in his jacket, and she was still shaking, though not as violently as before. George waited for her to respond but when she didn't, he said, "We'll think about it. I'll talk to the Malfoys before we make any decisions, and we'll have to talk to Robards as well."

Harry nodded. "Alright. Ginny and Hermione will stay here with you while we take care of these two."

* * *

A little while later, George was sitting down with Aurelia on the couch, keeping an arm around her shoulders as she sat beside him, occasionally trembling, trying to stop herself from crying as she wiped away stray tears. Hermione brought them two cups of tea, kneeling down beside the couch and saying, "Do you feel better now, Aurelia?"

Aurelia nodded a little, but didn't write anything down. She was still in shock.

The fire suddenly grew large and turned a toxic green, and out of the flames stepped Lucius Malfoy, followed shortly after by Narcissa. Hermione turned, and when she saw who it was she stood up quickly and backed away. George frowned but he knew Hermione had some bad memories from her time at the Malfoy Manor. Sometimes those things are difficult to forget.

George stood up too, and moved out of the way as Lucius and Narcissa hurried over to their daughter. Narcissa sat beside her and cradled her daughter in her arms, and Lucius kneeled in front of her where Hermione had just been, and held her hand gently.

"Aurelia," he said, voice dry, "We're so glad you're safe."

Narcissa said nothing, but closed her eyes and rocked Aurelia back and forth.

George moved over to the kitchen where Ginny and Hermione were standing, talking quietly. They looked up when George wandered over. Ginny half-smiled and said, "How are you doing, then?"

"Oh, I've had better nights," George said with a small shrug, leaning against the counter. "Sorry for interrupting your dinner."

"Yes, because we'd much rather finish our cheesecake than save you from an untimely death," said Hermione, raising her eyebrows. George still had trouble knowing whether she was joking light-heartedly or whether she was being morbid.

"Is your arm okay?" said Ginny, lifting the hole in his sleeve so she could observe his scar.

George swatted her hand away. "It's fine," he said. "Don't you have any faith in Hermione's abilities?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course I do, but it wasn't an ordinary cut."

"It will still be tender," said Hermione. "I wouldn't be doing any heavy lifting for a while."

"No, it's fine," George began, before Ginny swatted his arm. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, shifting away quickly, "What was that for?"

"Checking to see if it's still tender," she said, with a smile. "No heavy lifting, okay? Use your wand."

"Fine," George muttered. He glanced over at the Malfoys, who were sitting together on the couch. Ginny had sent her patronus to Draco a few minutes before, so he would be arriving soon if he hadn't already been on the way.

"Do you think they would mind her staying with Mum and Dad?" Ginny asked quietly, "I mean, they are –"

"Parents," said George. "They were willing to let her stay here with me, for her protection. "They'll do anything to keep her safe."

Ginny hesitated, before she nodded.

George's eyes were still on the Malfoys, but he kept his eye mostly on Aurelia. She still looked frozen, like she was petrified. Narcissa wrapped her up with a rug which was hanging from the back of the couch, and as she did so Aurelia turned and her eyes locked with George's.

And for a very long, calm moment, she didn't look away.

* * *

George was standing by the couch, near the Malfoys. He'd brought them more tea, and after they had thanked him he said, "I wanted to wait until the Aurors arrived, but I thought I might just mention it now…"

Narcissa and Lucius looked at him, waiting for him to keep talking. George cleared his throat a little and continued. "Well, obviously we didn't – didn't think that there would be any danger involved with Aurelia staying here, but from what happened tonight I don't think that's the case."

"If they managed to break through the defensive shields, they must have been planning it for a while," said Lucius. "It was not a random invasion."

"Exactly," said George, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. "They were here for Aurelia, and though I hate to say it myself I don't think she's safe here anymore. We'll have to relocate her."

Narcissa looked distraught, her eyes wide. George could see where Aurelia got it from. "But where would she go?" Narcissa asked, "She can't stay with us – Lucius –"

"We've had a few intrusions at our home," said Lucius in his calm voice. "A few too many."

George looked to Ginny who smiled at him momentarily before continuing her conversation with Hermione. He took a small breath, crossed his fingers and said, "Well, I would suggest my parent's home – the Burrow."

"The Burrow?" Lucius repeated with that familiar hiss in his voice, which indicated his disdain. He regained his dignity in the small space of a few seconds, took a breath and said, "Why is that?"

"It's always protected," said George. "My mother will be there all the time, and my father at night. I can stay there nights, too, and I'm sure – I'm sure we could organise you staying there, too…"

George's sentence drifted as he realised how incredibly awkward it would be to have the Malfoys staying at the Burrow, what with all the horrible banter that had gone on between the two families for as long as anybody could remember.

Lucius lifted his chin a little in thought, and he looked at his wife for a moment, before he said, still looking at Narcissa, "I suppose, if we have no other option, then we will do what must be done."

George nearly sighed heavily in relief but didn't when Lucius turned back to him and said, "But we will first consult with the Aurors and see what they have decided."

"Of course!" George said, a little too enthusiastically. "Certainly. I'll, um – I'll let you get back to –"

George backed off, and felt a great sense of relief when he looked at Aurelia, and saw her smile at him. He smiled back, knowing that at least for now, she was safe, and he had saved her.


	34. Chapter 34

Yay more story!

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirty Four_

As they stepped out of the fireplace and through to the Burrow, George inhaled deeply and knew the familiar smell of aromas from the kitchen like fresh bread and pastry and tea, and the smoky smell of the curtains and rugs, the dusty smell of the brick of the walls.

George put the bags he was carrying down by the couch. A second later, Aurelia stepped through, and George immediately took her hand. She glanced around, taking in her surroundings. There was a lot to take in, George supposed as he looked around. A lot of different colours, mix-matched furniture, strange paintings, random decorations and knick-knacks everywhere – the place stank of nostalgia.

"Welcome to the Burrow, Aurelia," said George. "This is my home."

Before he could say any more, Molly Weasley came rushing through from the kitchen, arms wide as she collected her son in a mighty hug. "George! Just in time for breakfast, too!"

George hugged Molly back, putting up with the kiss on the cheek before he stepped back and said, "Mum, this is Aurelia Malfoy. Aurelia, this is my mother, Molly Weasley. She's going to hug you now."

The last part was less of a warning and more of a fact, and Aurelia clearly restrained stepping backwards as she let herself be embraced by the Weasley matriarch. George smiled at her and gave her the thumbs up, and she managed a small smile in return.

Molly let her go, and put her hands on Aurelia's shoulders, saying, "I hope you know that you are most welcome here, my dear, and you can stay as long as you have to. This place feels so empty nowadays… can you imagine, seven children running around this house? Seven! And six of them boys! I don't know how I ever managed, you know…"

Aurelia followed Molly quietly to the kitchen, where Molly began asking her if she wanted some breakfast – the table was already set, with a large bowl of porridge, fresh toast with scrambled eggs and bacon, beans and sausages, with a pot of tea and a jug of orange juice standing patiently by.

If Aurelia didn't put on weight here, she never would.

George had explained to Molly earlier that morning, before bringing Aurelia around, all the things she had been through, and all of the minor details, too – like how she couldn't talk, how she couldn't eat too much or else she'd become sick, how she needed to be looked after constantly. Molly was a sucker for a sad story and had immediately offered to take her in, to keep her safe until she could return home.

The Aurors – that is, Harry, Ron, Gawain Robards and a few others – had weighed up the options (which included Malfoy Manor, George's flat, Harry's flat, Grimmauld Place, Hogwarts and a few random safe-houses available for Ministry use) and decided that Aurelia would be safest in a more familiar place, where she could be with someone at all times, be protected and be hidden. A number of factors including residents of the homes, knowledge of her whereabouts, her emotional state and her level of protection were considered.

The Burrow was the best chance they had at keeping her safe.

George was also made responsible for her secrecy – he was to keep tabs on how she was doing and provide necessary disguises, should she need to go anywhere or be seen by anyone other than the close-knit circle who knew where she would be. George knew he'd be going to the Burrow to check up on her most nights anyway.

And as for the situation with the Malfoy family, the Aurors had made the executive decision that they were not to go see Aurelia at the Burrow, but she would go to meet them either at George's shop or the Malfoy Manor. If the Malfoys were being monitored, their travelling to the Burrow would cause Aurelia's safety to be compromised.

That solved the awkwardness issue, then, thought George.

He sat down beside Aurelia at the table, watching Molly place food on her plate. A piece of toast with eggs, one piece of bacon, beans, a sausage – George could see Molly hesitate as though she were about to put another sausage on the plate, glancing at how thin Aurelia was – but George saw her and he shook his head. Molly smiled and placed the plate in front of the blonde haired girl, and said, "Don't be shy, dear, eat as much – or as little as you like."

Aurelia smiled, and picked up her knife and fork and began to eat. George poured her an orange juice when he asked her which she would prefer, and then he piled a hearty breakfast on his plate. He didn't get such good treatment at his own flat.

And judging by Ron arriving not long after, he didn't suppose Hermione made him breakfast like this either. It's hard to get out of the habit of being fed constantly. Hermione followed him through the door, saying she'd forgotten her keys, and they sat down to eat.

Arthur arrived not long after, and introduced himself to Aurelia. "Such a pleasure to meet you," he said. "George has told us all about you."

Aurelia paused and glanced at George, with a slightly concerned expression. George's lips twitched in a smile. "Only the good bits," he said quietly to her.

She smiled.

The conversation was light-hearted and casual, as George remembered it. Ron was busy trying to explain to his dad that Hermione and he were going to be deciding between hydrangeas and hyacinths for the wedding, and George could see he was struggling to remember the difference. Hermione and Molly talked for a while about clothes and shopping, before Hermione said, "I've actually got quite a few clothes I don't wear anymore, that might fit you, Aurelia."

Aurelia glanced up, and George could see she had her thinking face on. Hermione was quick to add, "Of course, you don't have to, but I mean if you were interested…"

George saw Aurelia grab out her notebook and write something to Hermione, who nodded and said, "Sure, I can do that. If you're settled in by tonight, I might drop past." She smiled and Aurelia gave a small smile in return before continuing to slowly eat her breakfast.

"Another long day at the shop, George?" asked Arthur, sick of talking about flowers with Ron who had become distracted by the bacon.

George nodded. "As always. But I've also called a favour in with Oliver Wood – his Quidditch team didn't make the finals so he's got a few weeks off."

"That's good," said Arthur. "Maybe take the load off a bit."

"Hopefully. But the last time I asked Oliver to help out he ended up taking Verity out for dinner."

Hermione giggled. "Of course he did. Oliver is charming." Her comment earned her an annoyed expression from Ron, who still had a mouthful of bacon, and she said, "Well, what do you want me to say? He _is _charming."

George rolled his eyes. Yes, it was a fact, Hermione was right. He just hoped he wouldn't find Verity kissing him in the storeroom again.

* * *

When George returned later that night, he found Hermione and Ginny in the living room, sorting through piles of clothes that both of them had bought around for Aurelia. They were smiling and giggling – clearly having far too much fun with another girl around.

George was pleased to find Bill and Fleur in the kitchen, Fleur looking exhausted – probably from having to carry such a ridiculously heavy stomach everywhere with her, even if she still had a few months to go. She wasn't fit for travelling, but George knew she always made effort to maintain her relationship with Molly.

Bill looked a little tired, too. George guessed it was about another week until the full moon, and though it didn't affect him nearly as much as other werewolves, his lycanthropy still did cause him some grief. George was collected in a hug by his older brother, who said, "You need a haircut, George. You're looking nearly as ridiculous as me."

George smiled at him. "It hasn't been this long since we were – since I was fourteen."

"And you used to wear those stupid beanies," Ginny called out as she wandered through the room. A few chuckles followed her teasing comment and George shook his head, grinning as he picked up a butterbeer from the table.

"Yes, but at least I haven't had the hots for Harry Potter since I was eleven," he retorted.

The friendly banter went back and forth for a while. George then saw, in the corner of his vision, Aurelia sitting out on the front deck with Andromeda Tonks, who sat in the rocking chair with Teddy in her lap. Teddy's wiggling fingers reached out to Aurelia, and then Andromeda picked up her grandson and passed him to Aurelia.

Aurelia was a little shocked but held Teddy gently and smiled as he cackled and gurgled. Aurelia was already wearing some of Hermione's clothes, a dark red skirt which fell past her knees, black tights, lace-up boots and a large off-white sweater to keep her warm. Considering how cold it was George assumed she was wearing a few more layers. He loved the way she dressed, even if she did cover up all of her skin. She was wearing a collared shirt again, with a light yellow scarf.

George could understand why she loved wearing such warm, cosy clothes. She had been, prior to the war, probably accustomed to wearing very prim and proper clothes, as she had been a Malfoy child, and throughout her captivity she would not have been given any new clothes at all. She found comfort and warmth in the clothes she was wearing.

She caught his eye through the window and instantly smiled as she saw him. Andromeda saw the glance they shared and she gave George a knowing look, which he pretended not to see. Aurelia stood up with Teddy in her arms and Andromeda opened the door for her to come inside.

George greeted them both, kissing Andromeda on the cheek and giving her a warm hug, and then he smiled at Aurelia and kissed her on the forehead. He saw her look a little surprised, but he simply grinned and then he gave Teddy a big raspberry kiss on his cheek, making the small boy giggle.

George wondered for a moment, why he had thought it was appropriate to kiss Aurelia, even if it was on the forehead. It reminded him of Tabitha – he had done the same thing to her. Maybe it was something drilled into him by Molly. She gave kisses out left, right and centre. But he tried not to dwell on it.

Andromeda went to say hello to Bill and Fleur while George stayed with Aurelia and Teddy.

"So when are you due, my dear?" said Andromeda to Fleur.

"Not till May," she said with a sigh. "I want it to be over with."

"Don't we all," muttered Bill, flashing Fleur a charming smile and a loving kiss when she turned to chastise him.

"Did you have a nice day then?" George asked, turning back to Aurelia, as he let Teddy play with the buttons on his jacket.

Aurelia nodded, and pointed at her skirt, and then at Hermione. George understood, and said, "Yeah, I did notice that – have they been making you try things on all day?"

Aurelia shook her head, but she smiled.

"All afternoon?"

She nodded. George laughed, and said, "Well, they aren't used to having another girl around. They're having far too much fun with you."

Aurelia glanced over to where the girls were standing in the kitchen, helping Molly with the potatoes. George would talk to her later about how she felt staying at the Burrow, but right now she was busy holding Teddy, so he continued to play with him and tickle him, taking him into his arms and spinning him around the room, watching Teddy's hair grow bright purple in his delight.

George smiled, watching the toddler's face morph as he tried to copy George. He got the nose almost spot on, and his hair turned a strange shade of ginger. "Is that what I really look like?" George asked with a gasp. "Merlin, am I ugly?"

The others laughed at him, and Aurelia smiled. George was pleased her transition from the shop to the Burrow had been smooth – and he hoped that she would stay there for a while. It made him feel better, more than anything, knowing she was safe, even if he couldn't be with her all the time. But that said, he wasn't able to stay with her at all times even when she was at the shop.

After Valentine's week was finished, it would be easier for George to see her.


	35. Chapter 35

This one is a short one guys, I'm extremely sorry I didn't get a proper chapter up... this is kind of a filler. Unfortunately I have to go to Canberra for a week so there will be a short break between chapters, but I'm on holidays the week after so I'll have a few more up next week :) thankyou all so very much for reading, I hope you're having a nice holiday wherever you are. much love :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirty Five_

George had his eyes closed as he sat in the kitchen chair, a towel wrapped around his shoulders and the gentle sound of 'snip-snip' following Ginny's scissors as she cut his hair. She'd been quite surprised when he had asked her to give him a haircut, but she had agreed, saying she would give it her best shot (but making no promises).

"Only a few days left of Valentine's season," Ginny said, as she snipped another lock of red hair. "Glad it's over?"

"You have no idea," said George with a sigh, tipping his head back for a moment before Ginny pushed it forward again. "And not to mention I'm doing job trials at the moment."

"Really?" Ginny asked. "Are you getting more casual workers?"

"No. I'm thinking about opening a new shop, in Hogsmeade."

Ginny's hands paused, hovering over his hair. "Really?"

George frowned. "Yes, really. Why?"

He could almost hear the smile in her voice as she resumed cutting his hair. "Well, that was what Fred used to talk about all the time, after Zonko's shut down."

George smiled. He remembered the way Fred would plan out their finances. He was their money man – George was hopeless with money. After the war, their plans to extend the business had been put on the backburner as George had struggled to keep up running a shop by himself. It had been two years, though, and he had been keeping an eye on their savings, and he had done some basic calculations, and he reckoned that now he'd have enough money to buy another shop in Hogsmeade, and hire more workers so he could work less.

"Yeah," George said. "I think I've got enough money. Hopefully. It's just – you know, I'm just throwing ideas around at the moment. But hopefully it will pull through."

"You can always talk to Justin," said Ginny. "He's a finance advisor, at Gringotts."

"Justin?"

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," said Ginny. "He helped out Harry and I when we were looking for an apartment, and he's keeping an eye on the market for us."

"Are you buying?" asked George. "You only moved in here last year."

"Well," Ginny said, combing George's hair to get out the stray cuts, "Harry wants to move to Godric's Hollow, eventually. We were staying here initially to keep Harry close to the ministry, for his Auror training, and me for my Quidditch – but I don't think I'll keep that up much longer, anyway. I might go get a teacher's degree."

"Why?" asked George, "You're a brilliant player."

Ginny's lack of a response made George frown. He laughed, and said, "I mean, it's not like you're having kids anytime soon."

She didn't respond again, and George spun around in the chair, making Ginny jump, nearly snipping off a large chunk of his hair. George's grin was ridiculously wide. "You're making babies!" he exclaimed.

"No, no – no," Ginny said, holding up her hands to stop George from embracing her, "Not just yet, okay? And for Merlin's sake, don't tell Mum," she sighed, "She'll think we're getting married and having a tribe of Potters."

George grinned. "I won't tell her – unless I really need something from you, and I use it against you."

Ginny's eyes narrowed at her older brother. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me!"

* * *

A short while later, Harry arrived home from the ministry, to find George and Ginny attempting to make dinner for the family that Friday night – unfortunately, they weren't nearly as talented as their mother at making dinner, even with two of them there. They were attempting to make roast beef, with Yorkshire puddings, gravy and potatoes. Ginny was nearly as hopeless as George when it came to cooking.

"Have you guys got a backup plan?" asked Harry as he came back through from the bedroom, after having changed from his work robes to his casual clothes – jeans, a black shirt and a dark blue flannelette over-shirt. George knew Harry was the nondescript type, and he guessed that the over-shirt was probably bought for him by Ginny.

"In case this meal fails?" asked Ginny.

"Well," said George. "I'm glad you asked. See if this doesn't work, I was going to steal the house elf from the nearest pure blood and beat him until he makes us a three meal course, complete with dessert."

"Don't let Hermione hear you saying that," said Harry. "She's just finished her final report for the liberation of house elves – the fines for house elf abuse are now ridiculously high."

"Remind me to congratulate her," said George, before he hesitated in his peeling of the potatoes. "Wait, I thought she was working on the report for working rights of werewolves?"

Harry shrugged. "When has Hermione ever only done one thing at once?"

* * *

After Harry had opened a bottle of wine (and cut up some cheese for the crackers) a knock sounded at the door. Molly and Arthur had arrived, Molly bringing an apple pie for dessert. She ushered Aurelia inside, and Harry took her jacket to hang up for her.

George dried his hands on a tea-towel, going over to say hello to his parents and Aurelia. Molly gave him a quick kiss, before hurrying over to make sure Ginny was doing everything right. Arthur gave George a big hug, smiling and ruffling his hair, saying, "Brilliant! A haircut!"

"Yeah," George said, fixing his hair, "I figured it was about time." Ginny hadn't made any dramatic changes – she had just cut the hair shorter, given it more style (as opposed to the long red mop it had morphed into). It wasn't short, but at least now it looked like he cared about his appearance.

Aurelia looked up at George's hair and gave him a smile. George leaned down, and let her touch it, her small fingers combing through his red locks. "Do you approve?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, tugging on his fringe, making his eye twitch. "Ow," he said, swatting her hand away gently, watching her laugh at him, and George noticed something different.

"Your teeth," George exclaimed, "They fixed up your teeth!"

Aurelia's lips closed, hiding her smile, almost shyly. George had been so used to her cracked, broken teeth that seeing her with such perfect pearly whites was a pleasant shock.

"Wow, they look awesome," George said, grinning. "You should be very proud." He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her on the head.

Aurelia glanced up at George before she cautiously wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him. George was slightly taken aback but returned her embrace. When she let him go, she pulled a small folded piece of note paper out of the pocket of her loose, patched jeans, and pushed it into George's palm before she wandered through to the kitchen where the others were.

George unfolded the note, which read in her smooth, neat writing – _I missed you._

* * *

"So George," said Arthur, "Ginny tells me you're planning on expanding the business? Exciting stuff."

George shrugged. "There's nothing set in stone yet, but there's enough in the savings to buy another location and get a chain going."

"What you should do is invest in a calculator," said Arthur, excitedly.

"What?"

"A calculator," repeated Arthur. "They are these magnificent little devices, they can calculate numbers for you. Brilliant! I don't know why wizards don't pay more attention to muggle inventions…"

As Arthur continued rambling on to Harry about calculators and batteries, Molly began to tell George that she had organised for Hermione to come over a few nights a week to tutor Aurelia for transfiguration and charms, and Harry had agreed to help teach her potions.

"Brilliant," said George, smiling at Aurelia. "You know you could even ask Neville to send over some herbology text books – he's Professor Sprout's trainee at Hogwarts now, and soon when she retires he'll have her job."

"What a fine idea," said Molly. "Why, we could have Neville and Luna over at the next break – where is Luna these days?"

"Gallivanting around, discovering creatures," said Ginny, "She wants to build a zoo for magical creatures."

"Interesting," said George. He sort of liked Luna. She was odd but she wasn't afraid to be honest, and always willing to lend a helping hand.

"Oh, we should have a reunion!" said Molly, almost as excited about the prospect as Arthur was about batteries.

George and Ginny both rolled their eyes. "Merlin, Mum, we've got enough to plan already – besides, we'll be seeing everybody at Hermione and Ron's engagement party."

"When is that, by the way?"

"Not this Saturday, but the Saturday after that…"

As the others rambled on and continued their usual dinner chatter, George glanced at Aurelia who was, as always, listening. She tucked a strand of silvery hair behind her ear and caught George's eye. They shared a smile, and shared silence. George liked the warm, gentle peace he felt whenever he was with Aurelia, whenever he knew she was safe and healthy.

He had never thought when he agreed to help look after her that his family would so willingly take her in and care for her, too – but then again, as George looked around the table at his parents, his sister and Harry, that there was no better family than his own.

George concentrated on the Yorkshire puddings to avoid getting too emotional.


	36. Chapter 36

Oh my lawd, such a long chapter. Such a long gap between chapters. My apologies are of the deepest and most sincere nature, friends. I am terribly sorry I had a badly timed writer's block and I hope you see fit to forgive me. To make up for it I wrote a chapter that is half as long as it usually is… so rejoice and be glad! Thankyou so much for reading and for your fabulous reviews.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirty Six_

Later on that night, George went back to the Burrow with his parents and Aurelia. Arthur went to bed almost as soon as they had arrived back from dinner, and Molly busied herself by making sure they had enough breakfast for the next morning, asking George if he was going to stay the night.

"No, I'm afraid not," he replied, brushing a bit of dust from the fireplace from his hair. "I'll be back tomorrow, though."

Molly gave a small smile and nodded, saying goodnight to Aurelia and gently squeezing her shoulder before going off to the kitchen. George looked down at Aurelia and said, "Come on you, time for bed."

He led her up to the second storey, where Aurelia was staying. Like all the other rooms, it was really rather small – but Hermione had (strictly speaking, _without_ permission from Molly) expanded one of the wardrobes in the room Aurelia was staying in. It was Charlie's old room, and the one that Hermione and Luna would stay in when they visited.

Aurelia had settled in rather well. She didn't have many things to decorate it with, and as nobody knew where she would be staying next she wasn't inclined to move all of her things onto the shelves. Only her books had been shifted from her bag to the desk and the bookshelf.

George had been visiting almost every night to care for Aurelia – now that Draco and Narcissa weren't there to help her, he had to do it. He knew that Molly could help Aurelia with her wounds easily enough, but it wasn't a matter of Molly's capability, but more to do with Aurelia's comfort. She probably wasn't ready just yet to expose all of her scars to another new person.

"So did you enjoy dinner?" asked George. "Ginny's usually hopeless but it all turned out alright tonight."

Aurelia smiled and nodded. George reached for the small box of potions and medicines on the desk, while Aurelia turned and took off her jumper, before reaching to grab her notebook. They were both used to this by now – Aurelia was no longer uncomfortable about showing George her scarred, bare skin. George was glad that he could look after her now.

"Ready?" he asked, as Aurelia pulled her shirt up to expose her back, and he brushed her hair over her shoulder. Her skin was looking much better than it had in the beginning. George placed a small amount of the lotion on his fingers and began to carefully apply it to her skin.

_Careful there, mate_.

George hesitated, Fred's voice inside his mind as assertive and helpful as ever. He listened to it echo through his mind, before he felt Aurelia's head turn a little as though to see what the problem was. George blinked, and continued to spread the medicine onto her pale skin.

George noticed as he did so that she was writing in a neat scrawl, and just as he finished applying the lotion, she finished what she had been writing. George gently pulled her shirt down again and Aurelia turned to show George what she had written, taking the jar of lotion from him to continue spreading it along her arms.

The page in the notebook read, _Would it be alright if we went to Diagon Alley tomorrow? I know you said you were taking the day off and I'd like to go out. I can put on any disguises you like. I want to go shopping for books and clothes, I have money to spend but I haven't been out. I also think I'd like to see Draco and Astoria again. Is that okay?_

She glanced up at him as he read what she had written, before he nodded and said wholeheartedly, "Of course we can do all that, it should be fine." George knew he'd have to organise disguises fairly quickly and figure out exactly what they were doing before they could do it – but he still had a few hours left before he needed sleep and he could pull it together by then.

"Are there any particular places you want to go, or just to Flourish and Blott's, and perhaps we'll go to the robe shops and see what they've got?" he asked, tapping his finger as he pondered.

Aurelia nodded, and she gave him a small smile. George smiled back, before he said, "Alright then, I'd better go back to the shop. Will you be okay?"

She nodded again. "Alright," said George. "I'll be here about eight to get ready for Diagon Alley – and we'll have to be very careful. But you'll be okay."

He stood and leaned over Aurelia, kissing her gently on the top of her head. "Goodnight, Aurelia. I'll see you tomorrow," he said, before giving one last grin and walking back downstairs.

* * *

The reflection in the mirror showed a rather plain girl, with a small button nose and dark brown eyes, chestnut hair falling to her shoulders. She had a few freckles sprinkled on ochre skin, and wore a navy-blue striped dress, cream tights and a cosy white cardigan.

She blinked a few times before stepping back, and George glanced at Aurelia and said, "Well, you didn't turn into a frog, at least."

She gave a small smile and stared back at the mirror, clearly a little unsettled by her reflection but not prepared to admit it. George had undertaken 'Operation: Incognito' in preparation for Aurelia's first trip outside. In order to take Aurelia outside, George was under strict instructions to disguise her. She had to be a part of society, but she also had to be kept secret. In order to hide her identity, George had used Polyjuice potion (using a bit of hair from one of Ginny's neighbours, who had unknowingly assisted in the disguise – they had to find someone with the same measurements as Aurelia and the teenage girl next door to Ginny was the perfect match), and he had also used a number of his own WonderWitch products for makeup and hair purposes. Ginny was going to come with them, and bring Teddy with her (as she was babysitting him that day), and George was leaving the shop in Oliver and Verity's (somewhat) trusty hands, with Lee Jordan helping out as it was the last retail day before Valentine's Day.

All in all, it had been an incredibly long process and had taken far longer than expected.

"Alright," said George. "Looks like we're all set to go." He turned around, and called out, "Ginny? Are you ready?"

"Almost," she called back from the kitchen, amidst the sound of squeals and giggles, "Teddy decided to explode an orange, just give me a second –"

Teddy, like his parents, was extremely powerful with his magic, and for a toddler he was alarmingly talented and could make strange things happen. Exploding fruit, cakes and boxes was a new favourite past time of his, though he sometimes managed to make things rattle and burst the pipes when he got upset.

A few moments later, Ginny arrived with Teddy in her arms. "All set, then?" she asked, before George threw a handful of floo powder into the fire, and Ginny walked straight through the flames.

George glanced at Aurelia, who looked a little frightened as her borrowed brown eyes reflected the emerald flames. Though these eyes weren't as big as her own, they still looked wide, and though her lips were a little plumper and redder they still managed to tremble a little.

Reaching down to hold her hand, George smiled at her and said, "Don't worry – you'll be fine."

They stepped through the fire together and out into Diagon Alley.

* * *

The Alley was a little busier than George would have liked it – it was a Sunday but Valentine's day was tomorrow so the Alley was still decorated with hearts and angels and bright pink and red – a little overwhelming, to say the least. George immediately looked down to Aurelia and saw her eyes widening and her hands beginning to shake as soon as she took in the scene around her.

George squeezed her hand, and said, "Lia, you have to be calm. Remember what I told you?"

She looked up at him and squeezed her eyes shut, nodding. When she had told him she wanted to go out to the Alley, he had explained to her that in order to go to Diagon Alley, she had to maintain a calm exterior and be brave, because it wasn't like going to a family dinner or going to hospital. It was the outside world.

Their first port of call was Flourish and Blott's, and then to the Owl Emporium (because George desperately needed an owl for the shop, now that Verity had announced her owl's retirement from the business world), and also to the apothecary where George had to buy more supplies that he couldn't get through private sellers – silly things like pixie hair which weren't easily found, therefore difficult to come by. Then they would pass by Madam Malkin's, and then if they had time before lunch, go out to Muggle London for more clothes. George had suggested going to Ollivander's, but Aurelia had made it clear she would only choose a wand when she felt ready enough to begin using magic again.

Aurelia took a small breath and wrapped both of her hands around George's, and let him lead her forward into the alley, towards Flourish and Blott's. Hermione had given George a list of books she considered totally necessary for Aurelia's education, to help her learn all the spells she needed to know, and Hermione had happily donated her entire 'Standard Book of Spells' collection to Aurelia's bookshelf. Ginny had given a small collection of monthly magazines which contained a great number of spells for the modern witch, like cleaning spells, spells to make your hair curly or straight, spells to remove pimples, spells to make you smell nice – basic girly spells.

Aurelia had been quite excited about both of these new additions to her shelf, and had been reading them almost religiously while George had been working. But today they were going to get some new ones, some new charms and transfiguration books which were new in the school syllabus. Hermione had recommended them to help Aurelia with her studies, so they were on the list.

Aurelia held onto George's hand tightly as they moved towards Flourish and Blott's, Ginny leading the way with baby Teddy in her arms, who was reaching out to grab at things in the windows he passed by. When they walked past the sweet shop he looked rather distraught that they hadn't gone in and his hair became a cloudy shade of blue, but when Ginny pointed out the miniature dragons in the window of the Menagerie he cheered up, hair returning to its normal colour.

They arrived at the shop, and wandered in to find it was not as busy as George had thought it would be. He gave Ginny the list of books and she wandered up to the front of the shop, and handed it to an assistant, asking if they had them in stock.

While Ginny took care of that, George led Aurelia around the shop, still holding her hand. She was looking scared, and George gently squeezed her hand, and said, "It's okay. Have a look around."

Aurelia swallowed the nervous lump in her throat and moved her eyes to stare at the books, having to move close to them to see the titles. They were in the general section – books written by novelists or journalists concerning modern issues in the wizarding world.

George was more than a little concerned about Aurelia's nervousness. It was almost entirely too dangerous to take her out if she couldn't remain in a calm state. Of course George knew she wanted to be out in the open but it was too much of a risk, for now, and if she wasn't able to overcome her fear she would expose herself.

She tried to lift a hand up to the spine of a burgundy book but her hand shook so much she could hardly do it. George saw a passerby glance at her with a strange expression, and he quickly stood behind her, and put both of his hands on her shoulders, and he said in a hushed voice, "Lia, if you're scared we can leave."

She shook her head almost as soon as he'd said it. She was trying to hard to be brave but it was difficult for her. Courage didn't come easily to Slytherins, but George knew she was trying her hardest.

"You don't have to stay," he whispered, glancing at people walking by. "Once Ginny gets these books we can go."

She turned to George and shook her head – and George was stunned at how the brown eyes of a total stranger could speak the same things as Aurelia's own. She was trying not to show her fear.

A moment later Ginny had left the counter with the books, having paid with the money Aurelia had given her. George took the books from her as carrying two bags of books and a small child was no easy task.

"There we go," said Ginny. "They had them all except for Advanced Healing, Second Edition – I'm sure Hermione will know where to find another."

George nodded. "Okay, so – um, do we want to go to the Owl Emporium? Will you be okay with that, Au – um, Lia?"

She nodded, and Ginny frowned, knowing something wasn't quite right, but she didn't voice her concern, instead leading them out of the shop to go to the Owl Emporium. They had barely made it out of the shop when somebody walked out of a nearby alley and bumped past Aurelia, saying a muffled apology as they continued on their way. Aurelia stumbled, and nearly fell, dropping her bag.

If it were anybody else, George wouldn't have worried. He'd have helped them up, dusted them off and told them to keep on going. But Aurelia didn't get up and he could see her breaths quicken, her hands shaking, her eyes wide. George had only seen her have panic attacks a few times but it was already obvious to him when it was happening.

He stopped, and quickly pulled her to her feet, keeping a hold of her shoulders as he did so. Ginny hadn't noticed they weren't there until she'd walked an extra five meters, and when she turned to see George picking her up she waited for them.

George knew already that it was going to be too difficult for Aurelia to recover from here. He grimaced and shook his head at Ginny, who paused, before she walked back towards them.

"Did you want me to finish the shopping?" she asked calmly, taking the list from George. "I'll get your ingredients, and you can come back later for the owl."

George nodded. "Thanks, Ginny. I'll see you back at the Burrow."

Aurelia didn't argue this time as George took her hand in his and hurried towards the end of the alley, to floo back to the Burrow.

* * *

When they arrived back, Aurelia's panic attack had elevated. She was hyperventilating, her chest heaving as her clenched fists shook. George sat her down on the couch and took out of his pocket a small potion which he had made, which sped up the effect of the Polyjuice potion so Aurelia could return to normal as soon as possible.

"Here you go, take this," he said, struggling to keep his voice calm. He lifted the vial to her lips and she let him pour it into her mouth. She grimaced but swallowed the bitter-tasting liquid, coughing a little.

"You're okay, it's okay," George repeated, sitting himself beside her and wrapping his arm around her. To his surprise, she turned towards him and pulled herself further into his embrace, latching onto him, her body contorting with sobs. He'd never seen her cry so much before. He'd seen her in shock, and in pain, but never had he seen her so devastated.

"Aurelia," he said gently, stroking her hair which was beginning to grow longer and shimmer as it returned to its normal pretty blonde colour, "You don't have to be upset. We can always try again."

George waited for her to respond, but all he heard was the sound of her choking sobs and her heavy breaths. He realised, then, that he was hearing her voice for the first time. He could hear a sound tearing from her throat as she cried, her tears soaking into the shoulder of his sweater.

He remembered that she still hadn't quite finished her transformation, and the small noises coming from the back of her throat weren't hers, but were a part of the girl whose body and voice she had stolen. He watched as her body morphed in his arms, the clothes becoming baggy and too large as her body shrank and George realised how tiny she was.

"You're so brave," he said quietly. "So brave for trying your hardest."

He felt her shake her head, and she sniffed as she rested against him, her legs curled up beneath her as she made herself as small as possible, and when George glanced down again the transformation was finished and she was no longer the girl next door, but was Aurelia again.

But she was no longer sobbing, so whether he had heard her voice or not, he would never know.


	37. Chapter 37

So this is late and I have five hours to sleep for a test tomorrow. Hope you guys like it, you'd better like it... haha I kid. I appreciate any attention this story gets at all, I'm so pleased you follow and I die of happiness when you review (not literally, though considering how long it takes to update you probably think I have died.) So thanks for reading and I hope you like it. :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirty Seven_

George's steady hands threw the teabags and sugar in the chipped mugs as the kettle boiled. Draco had arrived not moments ago, flooing straight from the Manor to their lounge room to avoid being followed. Aurelia was very nearly back to normal, staying quiet and listening to Draco's calm voice as he talked to her about security at the Manor, about progress in the trial. He had begun to talk about Lucius' plan to book an appointment with the a professional dark magic scarring healer from Finland when Aurelia wrote him a note, asking if he could talk about something else. Draco complied, telling her instead about Astoria's plans for their wedding.

George realised as Draco spoke of weddings that Ron and Hermione's was rather close. It was in May so it was about three months away yet, but he knew it would be upon them very quickly. Draco and Astoria's was to be held at the Malfoy Manor – at least, if the security systems could be fixed and if those last straggling Death Eaters could get cleaned up. He grimaced, pouring the tea and telling himself to take his mind off such negative things.

George wandered over to the lounge with the tea, placing it on the table along with a small batch of biscuits made by Molly. His mother had fussed over Aurelia when she found out what had happened, and Aurelia had let her which George considered to be especially patient and kind, considering she'd rather be left alone. She'd been unusually – well, George would have said quiet, but she didn't speak. She hadn't written a sentence since they'd returned, only to ask George not to mention the ordeal to Draco. George wasn't sure if that was the best idea but he respected her wishes and didn't mention it, saying he'd been out to get her books that morning but not revealing Aurelia had gone with him.

"So, while Draco is here," George said as he sat down, "Can I talk about you seeing an eye-doctor?"

Aurelia and Draco frowned, and George was a little shaken by how similar they looked. "Why is that?" Draco asked.

"I don't think her eyes are working properly," George explained. "But, as she's technically not supposed to be here and we, er – well, we can't really go out. I think we should organise one to visit here."

"But we can't let anybody know she's here," said Draco. "It's not –"

"I know," George said, interrupting him. "I thought – maybe we can use a memory charm."

Aurelia paled as soon as George said the words, and he instantly worried. "Aurelia, what's wrong?"

Draco's eyes turned from George to his sister, and his hand reached out to hold hers. She turned her grey eyes to look at him, taking a shaky breath, trying to stay calm.

This happened sometimes – George knew, in a vague sort of way, that there were certain topics and issues which brought up frightening memories for her. Aurelia's ordeal was still recent, though it felt like forever ago. But George was still learning what kinds of things made her scared.

Draco asked her again what was troubling her but she shook her head, indicating they should forget about it. But Draco's determination surprised George, and he grabbed his sister's notebook and quill from the table and told her to write it down.

Aurelia swallowed, her hand shaking as she wrote. After Draco had read it, he passed it to George with a concerned expression.

The note read, _They used to threaten me with memory charms._

George glanced at Draco, worried. The mere thought of some of the horrible things the Death Eaters had done to Aurelia was dreadful, and she'd had to endure that.

"We'll find another way," said Draco, decidedly. Aurelia shook her head and reached for the notebook but Draco held it away from her and said, "Ah-ah, no, I have had the final word." A miniature smile found its way onto his lips, and George laughed as Aurelia tugged on his arm and pushed and shoved him to get her beloved notebook back.

Draco's smile was so genuine and so genuinely happy that George wondered where he'd been hiding it all those years. Behind that god-awful slimy smirk of his, probably. Living a lie for his teenage years.

When Aurelia gave up trying to get a say in the conversation, she slumped beside Draco. George was pleased she was comfortable being close to people now, even if it was only her family. She wasn't as unsure as she had been before.

Draco rested his hand on her shoulder, and his smile faded as he said quietly, "They want to speak with you. The Aurors. Perhaps we can ask them for help for your eyes."

Aurelia's calm expression was tainted by this new piece of information. Draco held onto her hand as he continued speaking. "They told Father that you just have to answer yes or no questions, and ask for help with identification of the – the Undesirables. Will you be okay to help them?"

George wasn't sure how long she took to reply, but it seemed like an age between Draco's question and Aurelia's barely noticeable nod, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Whether it was one of relief, George wasn't sure.

"Thankyou, Aurelia," said Draco. "You're very brave."

If only Draco knew how brave she really was, thought George. She was braver than any Slytherin he'd ever met.

* * *

George couldn't stay for too long at the Burrow because he needed to get back to the shop to prepare for tomorrow – Valentine's Day. It was sure to be completely and utterly chaotic at the shop and George needed to get everything ready so the day could run (relatively) smoothly.

Verity had done an amazing job, even with Oliver Wood there making her all giggly and stupid. Oliver was taking care of restocking and customer inquiries about the shop, while Verity manned the counter. George had made sure to ask for some helpers for tomorrow – namely Lee Jordan, to help Verity at the counter. George was reading through his list of applicants for jobs at the new shop, owling them to see if anybody was available the next day.

He'd already made arrangements to see Justin Finch-Fletchley next week to talk finances and see how quickly they could get it up and running. Once it was all sorted, George planned to reduce his workload to inventing products and running the business, leaving the stores in care of managers and hiring some helpers to make the products. If it all went smoothly, George could expect to see the business expand significantly, what with the new range of WonderWitch cosmetics and a number of books concerning professional pranking to be released soon.

George sighed. Being an entrepreneur was difficult work, especially since he didn't have his team mate there to help him with it. George knew that things were going to get tougher before it could get better. Not only was there the store to worry about, but Aurelia's full recovery and the eventual trial were considerable challenges that they had yet to face, not to mention that there were still some wild Death Eaters out there to kill them both. George knew it was going to be a struggle and when it was over, there would be a lot of work to do to get things back to normal.

But they had hope, and that was better than nothing. They had to take risks, they had to stay brave. George had to stay brave, for Aurelia. He was willing to sacrifice the comfort of being nondescript and safe for her sake.

George stared at the window, watching the clouds for a moment. He wished he could pause time and just relax for one moment. That would be heavenly.

But before he could consider the lovely thought for too long, an owl landed on the window sill, making him jump. It stared at him with big golden eyes and waited patiently for him to open the window.

George let the owl in, and stroked her feathers gently. This was the newest member of the team at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Her name was Clover, and she was a Barred Owl. The man at the Owl Emporium had been quite adamant about this point, and about the fact she was one of the most individual breeds, being able to catch her own meals more often than not and not being particularly temperamental. George's only question was whether she was loyal or not, and the man said it depended on how well he treated her.

Apart from all the technical information, George had been most drawn to her by her markings. Though she was a humble grey owl, she had such a lovely striped and mottled pattern to her feathers that George had found her quite beautiful in a subtle sort of way. Most people who preferred their owls to be eye-catching would choose crested or masked owls, and even sometimes the pygmy breeds. George had found Clover particularly beautiful because she was wonderfully simple – just two big brown eyes, with two big rings around them like glasses. There were stripes of pale coffee-brown on her silvery grey feathers which faded as they went down her back and her wings. She was still a little small, and a bit fluffy, but the salesman had said she'd be a little bigger when she was fully grown.

"Hey, Clover," George said, picking up an owl treat from the desk to give to her as he took the letter. "Thanks, here you are."

The bird took the treat and ruffled her feathers, before she flew across the room to sit on the new perch George had bought, giving her feathers a quick preen before settling down for a nap. She was nocturnal, after all.

George opened the note and read it quickly – it was from Katie Bell, who he had owled just before. She must have been at home – the note read, _Hey George, sure thing – I probably won't know what I'm doing but if the job's as easy as you say it is, sign me up! I'll be happy to help you out. See you tomorrow at eight. Katie._

George sighed happily. At least he could rely on Katie – she was somebody he knew. He was surprised when she'd applied to get a job at his shop, but she had explained that she was studying to work at Gringott's in the Protective Charms sector and she needed to pay her tuition fees before they kicked her out of the course altogether.

So that was taken care of. George had enough people to help him out tomorrow, and he had a new owl, and he was ready to face Valentine's Day like he never had before.

George was ready to go back to the lounge and relax and recline, when he heard a tapping on the window. Another owl sat outside on the sill, a smaller chestnut-brown dappled owl with a small note in its beak. It hopped onto his desk when he had opened the window, and dropped the note, before taking one of the owl treats sitting in the bowl on the desk, which made Clover open her eye to glare at the small owl from across the room.

"Sure, help yourself," George muttered, before unfolding the note and making out the messy scrawl on the page.

It read:

_Afternoon George, hope this letter finds you well. Are you busy tomorrow, after work? I thought seeing as it was Valentine's Day and I didn't have a date I might as well ask you, to avoid being at home, alone, watching sappy movies and eating all of my chocolate in one sitting. Care to join me? Enough chocolate for the two of us. – Janelle._

George blinked. Janelle Scrimgeour, Adriana's sister. He frowned. Was she trying to get on his good side or just… be friendly? Perhaps it wasn't the best idea.

But that said, George did in fact not have a date, though various girls he didn't know had approached him at the shop throughout the week. Perhaps spending the night with Janelle wasn't such a bad idea. But how old was she anyway? George sighed, and then picked up a piece of notepaper from his desk drawer to write a response.

_Hi Janelle. Sure, why not. __Your offer is the best I've had this week.__ I guess being single and lonely at this age is kind of pathetic. Send back your address and I'll floo to yours after work. Thanks again, George._

He thought it was a little dry but he didn't really feel overly enthused, he was only really going to be polite. He didn't want to be fake.

A thought then crossed his mind, and he scrawled at the bottom of the page, _P.S. How old are you?_

He gave the note back to the little owl to take back to Janelle, and George hoped that perhaps this encounter with the younger Scrimgeour sister would prove more advantageous than the last one.

* * *

PS I've got a new HP fanfiction blog full of pretty pictures and nice reviews and stuff, go check it out :D hp-ff dot tumblr dot com (just take the spaces out and put real dots in haha) or you can find the link on my profile page.


	38. Chapter 38

OMG Long chapter but totally worth it and it builds up the story line for later. Har har har, I am so evil, enjoy and I hope you guys can see where I'm going with it ;) more romance & drama, says me. Keep them on the edge of their seats! Still, I really am sorry. But not really. Have fun! And check out my blog, the link is on my page but it's something along the lines of hp-ff dot tumblr dot com. :D

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirty Eight_

By late morning, the store was beginning to quiet down a little. Most other shops were closed for Valentine's Day, with the exception of the cafés and the pubs. There were a few people with flower stalls and a few mimes and musicians making some cash from the happy couples wandering around Diagon Alley. George's shop, however, was still very much open, and it was for many young couples the perfect ice breaker to a nervous date. For others, it was the greatest store for last minute gifts. And for some, it was a chance to ruin many other people's happy plans.

George catered for many different customers.

The store was hectic, with the girls wandering around the WonderWitch section while the boys raided the prank section, while buying some chocolate flowers from the counter to show their dates how thoughtful they were. It was far too easy for George.

There were a lot of girls still coming in to buy more love potions for the ones which had previously failed on their poor victims – indeed, more than a few boys found their way to the love potion stand as well. George gave many of them a knowing wink when they wandered up to the counter to buy them, and they would wander off with a bashful look on their faces or a bright red blush.

That was just the thing. Confident people didn't need love potions. George knew he was making money from low-self esteem but if he didn't make them, who would? Love potions were a Valentine's day tradition.

The store quietened closer to noon, as more people left to get their lunch. George let out a heavy sigh as he leaned against the counter. Lee was nearly due back from his lunch break, so George could get back to minding the store room. Verity and Katie were taking turns at the counter, of two hour shifts, and the one who wasn't working would mind the store room. Oliver was doing a great job of restocking, putting those Quidditch muscles to good use.

"So, any plans for tonight?" Katie asked George, as she shut the till, watching another happy customer wander off.

George shrugged. "I'm going over a friend's place tonight, nothing really."

"Ooh, a friend's place?" Katie asked with a grin. "Is this friend a girl?"

"She might be," George muttered. "But it's mutual, cause we're both single."

Oliver laughed as he wandered past them back to the store room. "Weasley you sly dog. You'd make Charlie proud, all this cajoling around with girls."

"Thankyou, Oliver, but I do not cajole."

Oliver only laughed again before he left the room. Katie, as much of a gossip as she had been in school, didn't let it go. "So who is she, then?"

"Her name is Janelle Scrimgeour," said George. "She's a mutual friend. She asked me over and I didn't have any reason not to go."

"I know her," Katie said. "She was a few years above me at Hogwart's. Did you know her back then?"

George shook his head. "No, I didn't talk to her until a few weeks back."

George took the opportunity to help a customer determine which love potion would be best suited for their purpose – they were not, in fact, trying to find a partner, but instead was planning on slipping it into the drinks of her two close friends, so they could, as she said, 'just get it over with already'. George laughed but helped her choose a weaker strength potion, due to the fact they already liked each other and just needed an extra push.

Katie had gone to change the record – she'd managed to score an old record player at a Muggle second hand shop and had brought in some old records to play, all of which were themed for Valentine's Day. Billy Joel, Elvis Presley, the Beatles, Jackie Wilson and various other old blokes singing about love songs. George didn't mind the change from the usual radio.

But as soon as she returned from changing the CD to Beach Boys, she started pestering George again. "So is she your girlfriend?"

"No," George responded, his answer solid. "Certainly not."

"How'd you meet?"

"Through her sister."

"Adriana?"

"Merlin, what are you? How do you know so much about everything?"

Katie giggled. "You need to read the Prophet more often, George. The Scrimgeours are one of the socialite families of the wizarding world."

"Yeah, I don't read those bits of the Prophet," George muttered. "What's so special about them anyway?"

Katie rolled her eyes. "You must live under a rock. The Scrimgeours are one of the wealthiest non-pureblood families. The three kids have all –"

"What, three?"

"Yes, three. Tobias, Adriana and Janelle. Tobias' twin sister died when she was a kid, so their –"

"What, he had a twin?"

"Yes, George, weren't you listening?"

George groaned and put his hands over his face. "Oh Merlin," he sighed. "Stop talking Katie, I'm too easily confused."

Katie laughed and Oliver arrived back from the store room with more supplies for the heart-shaped fireworks stand (a new product, it had done fantastically well). He saw George looking distressed and said, "Geez George, don't you remember how Katie used to chatter away during Quidditch practice?"

"At least then I could fly away," George grumbled, earning him a smack from his former team mate.

* * *

Later on that night, George felt like sending an owl to Janelle to tell her he was too tired to come around. But he wondered what sort of things Fred would whisper to him if he stood up the only Valentine he'd had in years. George had put on a brave face instead and had changed out of his ridiculously bright work outfit, donned his jeans and leather jacket and made an effort to make his hair look nice. He wondered what sort of thing people did on Valentine's Day – was it a special occasion? George didn't know what to do, so he got out his wand and said, "_Orchideous,_"and watched as a bunch of limp, watery-looking weeds appeared from the end of his wand.

He grimaced. Transfiguration had never been his strong point, and this spell had nearly cost him his exam. But he didn't have time to go buy flowers. So he tried it again and again, and after he had a small pile of strange-looking bouquets in the bathtub, he had a small bunch of sweet-looking tulips in his hand. It would have to do.

The sun had just begun to set, so George opened the window to let Clover out for a fly around. "I'll be back after dinner," he told her, not sure if she knew what he was taking about. "You keep an eye on the time, none of this staying out till five in the morning business, okay?"

The owl softly hooted at him which he presumed was either an obedient 'yes' or a rebellious 'no'. He'd have to learn owl language sooner rather than later. He let her out, watching her grey feathers shine under the heavy orange light of dusk.

George had left the window open just a bit so she could come back in if she needed to, before going back to the lounge and flooing to Janelle's flat.

* * *

Unlike the perfectly coordinated and styled furniture in Adriana's flat, Janelle's seemed to be full of mismatching materials, the pillows were all different colours and none of the furniture matched. Whilst Adriana wouldn't dream of having a mahogany bookshelf next to an oak table, Janelle didn't seem to have any issues with it, and one of the walls was almost totally covered in framed photographs, making the wall seem like an ever-shifting mirage of faces.

When he arrived, George spent a moment just looking around. It felt like a comfortable place. It smelled like coffee. It was spacious but there was only one bedroom and a bathroom other than the main room which served as a lounge, kitchen and study.

George had only taken in the large collection of biographies on the shelf when a voice said, "Oh, you're here."

He turned and saw Janelle standing in the doorway to her bedroom, wearing a striped black and white shirt, which wasn't too clingy, and plain knee-length denim shorts, a pair of old sneakers on her feet. Her hair was loosely tied back in a bun, and she had a pair of red-framed glasses on. She took the glasses off and looked George up and down, before she grinned and said, "I didn't expect you to get dressed for the occasion."

"Better to dress up than down," George commented, raising an eyebrow at her tomboyish clothes.

"At least I'm not in pyjamas," she said. "Oh, flowers! Are they for me?"

George gave a small embarrassed shrug. "Yeah, I'm not – I haven't celebrated Valentine's Day for a few years. I always thought flowers were kind of necessary."

Janelle wandered over to where George stood, and said, "Don't fret, they're not unwelcome – just a surprise, that's all." She gave a small smile and George gave her the tulips, and she got out a vase to put them on the kitchen counter.

"So, had a fun day at the shop?" asked Janelle, as she put the kettle on.

"It wasn't so bad," George replied. "As well as any major holiday can go. Sold a lot of stuff, which is always a good sign."

"Means you're doing something right," Janelle smiled. "Tea or coffee?"

"Tea, please."

George was surprised at how casual she was compared to her sister. In her note she had replied that she was twenty three, which made her one year older than himself. He wondered why he'd never seen her around Hogwarts.

Shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair, George said, "So you went to Hogwarts, Janelle?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I was the year above you."

"I don't think I ever met you," George said. "What house were you in?"

"Ravenclaw," she responded, which surprised George slightly. Janelle saw his frown and she said, "Come on now, George, not all of us Scrimgeours are destined to be Gryffindors."

"I guess not," he replied. Janelle had brought his tea, and sat herself down opposite him, and George watched her for a moment. She was uncannily similar to Adriana in her graceful movements, but while Adriana was everything sharp, harsh and direct, Janelle was gentle and smooth.

"Have you spoken to my sister since her party?" Janelle asked then, as though she was tapping into George's thoughts.

"No," George replied, tracing the edge of the mug with his index finger absentmindedly. "No, I haven't. I don't know what to say to her."

Janelle sighed. "You know she didn't mean to hurt you. She's just – she's not exactly the happiest bride."

"Why doesn't she just break up with Jacoby?" George asked. "If she dislikes him that much, surely she –"

"Jacoby's not the problem," Janelle said, rather matter-of-factly. "The problem is that when you're a part of an upper class family, you're expected to be married with kids by a certain point in time. There isn't much in the way of casual relationships. And Adriana will be expected to quit her job when she gets pregnant."

George frowned. "But she probably took years to get that job."

"I know. That's why it sucks." Janelle leaned her elbow on the table and rested her face in her palm. "She's looking for an escape."

George was unsure of what to say, before a small smile of disbelief crossed his face. "Glad I could be of some use," he said.

Janelle frowned. "George, don't be like that."

George shook his head. "Sorry. Can we change the subject?" he managed a small smile. "Come on, tell me more about yourself."

Janelle seemed happy to comply, talking about her new job at the Hogsmeade Gazette, a small local newspaper. Janelle was a journalist and made money through freelance writing, and ghost writing.

"Ghost writing?" George repeated. "What's that?"

Janelle pointed to the numerous autobiographies on the wall. "I write biographies for famous people who can't be bothered doing it themselves."

George asked if he could have a look, and Janelle grinned, happy to show her works off. Numerous witches and wizards – Montague Knightly (wizards chess world chamption), Kirley Duke (guitarist for the Weird Sisters), the Ollerton brothers (founders of the Cleansweep broomstick company), Gwenog Jones (Captain of the Holyhead Harpies), and Ludo Bagman were the most notable of her clients.

"That man ripped me and my brother off at the Quidditch world cup," said George, poking Ludo Bagman in the face.

Janelle laughed. "Serves you right for being so gullible."

George glanced at the various other books on the shelf, a few of which had her name on the spine, unlike the books she had ghost-written. "What are these?" he asked, putting Bagman's biography back down to pick up a book which was entitled _Cedric Diggory – Eternal Champion._

Janelle's voice was quieter as she said, clearing her throat, "Oh, that's – that's one of my own books. I write biographies as well as autobiographies. I figured – well, Cedric deserved that much."

George glanced up at the various other names on the books – beside Cedric's book were the names of Alastor Moody, Severus Snape and Rufus Scrimgeour. George touched the spine of Rufus' book, and he said, "This one must have been difficult for you."

"It was quite," said Janelle, but didn't dwell on it. "I'm afraid I haven't had much of a chance to write many more, due to the fact that you're all very hush-hush about it."

"Who's hush-hush?"

"Your lot," said Janelle. "Harry Potter was the source for the information in Snape's memoirs, but he said he wasn't going to let me write anything about Sirius or Lupin or his parents. I've tried asking Hermione but she's just as stubborn."

George couldn't help but laugh at the small pout on the younger Scrimgeour's face. She shot him an indignant look, and he said apologetically, "Look, sorry, but that is such a journalist thing to do."

"Shove off," she said. "Or you won't get any chocolate."

* * *

Later on that night, they were sitting with beer instead of coffee, telling stories and laughing about things they remembered about Hogwarts. George found that he rather enjoyed her company, and was glad he'd come to see her instead of staying at home.

He glanced at his watch. It was eleven o'clock. "I think I'd better get going soon," said George.

Janelle looked a little disheartened but she said, "Can I see you again sometime?"

"For sure," said George. "As long as you don't coerce me into getting more information for your books." He grinned, before standing to get his jacket.

"I make no promises," Janelle replied, finishing her beer before waving her wand at the mess on the table, cleaning it up in less than ten seconds. "Sure you won't stay a little longer?" she asked.

Her question surprised George, but he shook his head. "No, sorry. I can't. I have to get back, I've got work tomorrow."

"Oh, of course," Janelle muttered. "Anyway, thanks for coming. I had a fun time."

She reached out to give him what George thought was a friendly hug, and George hugged her back. A moment later, she had pulled back, and then gently placed her lips on his cheek, her warm hand touching the slight stubble on his jaw.

George hesitated, before he stood up straight so she couldn't reach. "Um, no," he said, accidentally speaking a little too abruptly for his own liking, and it made Janelle flinch.

"I'm sorry," she said, taking a step back. "I just –"

"No, it's okay," George said, struggling to find the words. "I just – I'm not –"

"Not interested? That's okay," she said with a half-hearted smile. "I don't blame you, it's alright."

George felt himself panicking. "No, wait, Janelle – it's not that I don't like you, I'm just not all that ready for a relationship. Especially since – since you have to get married and all that. It's a bit much."

Janelle frowned. "I don't want to marry you George. Merlin. I just – I like you."

_First girl in years who genuinely likes you and your legs are made of jelly. Blimey mate._

George froze as Fred's voice taunted him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, "I'm sorry, it's just that – with everything going on –"

"What's going on?" Janelle asked, frowning.

George couldn't say anything about Aurelia. Gods, he was being so stupid. He forced himself to get it together and he sighed, and said, "I can't explain, right now, but – but I've got commitments."

"Another girlfriend?"

George shook his head. "No, no girlfriend – I just –"

Janelle gave him a sad half smile. "You don't have to explain. Just – owl me again, okay? I'd like to catch up. Even if just for a coffee."

George managed a smile. "Of course."

"Thanks," she said. "Now, get home before people start looking for you."

* * *

George was glad the awkward moment with Janelle had passed. He wasn't ready to trust her – not since his last romantic experience with a Scrimgeour girl. He knew it wasn't fair to judge her because of what Adriana did but it was just so hard to forget what she'd done to him.

Janelle was okay though. She wasn't as frightening either, and younger.

George sighed. He didn't know what to do. He needed his wing man there to help him.

He had been about to go straight to be when he saw a small note on the table – George stopped, and picked it up, and felt his heart drop when he saw her handwriting.

_Sorry I missed you George. I hope you're having a nice Valentine's Day. I'll see you soon. Aurelia._

It was short but it rang loudly in George's ears. He'd forgotten about Aurelia.


	39. Chapter 39

Aww this one made me sad :( but I had to upload it now because I won't get a chance to write any more until Thursday/Friday afternoon, cause I have a big-ass history essay to write on Thursday which I need to study for tomorrow. I really hope you like it :) Thanks for all the brilliant reviews, too, particularly from one person in particular - you might have seen their amazing reviews of my last few chapters, so a special thanks to tigerlilyweasley, I hope you like this chapter too dear :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Thirty Nine_

A soft sigh left her lips as she watched the fire place, a gentle, constant crackling sound from the small flames flickering there. Her small hand held the flowers loosely, and she touched her fingertip to one of the thorns on the stem, watching it press against her skin.

Aurelia had asked if she could go see George that night. She had picked a number of roses from Mrs Weasley's garden and tied them up with a silver ribbon, which Hermione had given her for her hair. When Aurelia asked Hermione to go with her, she hadn't been particularly keen for her to give George a Valentine's gift, thinking it was sweet but might not be received the way she hoped. Aurelia had argued that she hadn't seen a Valentine's Day in years, and it wasn't like she had anybody else to give a gift to other than George.

So she had spent a large part of the afternoon rummaging through all of the dresses that Hermione and Ginny had given her, and had finally settled on a knee-length charcoal grey skirt, and a deep crimson knitted cardigan over a plain white shirt. She'd pulled on a pair of black stockings and black ankle boots and had even tried to do something creative with her hair – but she ended up just leaving it out, unable to do a proper plait and too embarrassed to ask Hermione for help.

And she had become excited about the prospect of seeing George. Whenever she was with him it was like nothing was wrong in the world, every moment was the same – she could still see his blurred figure moving towards her in the cell, his warm and gentle hands removing her chains, picking her up in his arms, holding her close, taking her away from that awful place.

When she was with George, she was safe. When she was with George, she could smile without having to try.

So when Hermione had taken her to George's apartment, and he wasn't there, she had been mildly disappointed, but not disheartened. After having checked the shop and store room, Hermione agreed to stay and wait a while, in case he was just out for five minutes to get dinner.

Five minutes passed, and it turned into ten, which became half an hour. They had a few cups of tea and Hermione went through some basic charms theory with her while they waited. In total, they waited for one hour and forty five minutes for George to arrive back from wherever he was, but he didn't show. At ten thirty, Hermione told Aurelia they would just have to wait until the next time she saw George. It was too late to be out on a Monday night.

So Aurelia had written her quick note, leaving it on the table for George. She didn't leave the flowers because she thought if she wasn't there to explain why she was giving them to him, he might misinterpret the sentiment.

And now here she was, sitting in front of the fireplace at the Burrow, wondering what she was going to do with the flowers now she had nobody to give them to.

Not noticing what she was doing, Aurelia gasped as a thorn of the rose stem punctured her skin, a small drop of blood oozing out slowly. She brought her finger to her lips, the blood tasting like rust and salt.

Aurelia knew the taste of blood far too well. She let her fingertips trace a scar on her cheek, where Fenrir Greyback had once cut her with his claws. She had been so weak that night that she couldn't even move to keep the blood from seeping into her lips.

She flinched, mentally pushing the memory away. She didn't want to think about that sort of thing. She didn't want to remember any of it. But she knew one day she'd have to tell the Aurors what they had done to her, and she wasn't sure she could do that. Apart from the fact she couldn't find the courage to even use her voice again, Aurelia was ashamed.

She closed her eyes and remembered the way she used to be. She remembered the way Lucius would call her beautiful, sometimes, and the way Narcissa would insist on brushing her blonde hair to silky perfection. When she and Draco were little, she remembered the way they had tried to make a cake, and stubbornly eaten the end result even if it was a total catastrophe.

Aurelia smiled. She remembered the way it was before it all went wrong. Now, Lucius could hardly bear to look or speak to her, and Narcissa treated her like she was the most delicate thing in the world, like she would break at any instant. Draco was easier to fall back into step with, but even Aurelia could see sometimes that her scars frightened him, that he wished she looked the same as before.

She sighed. Perhaps it wasn't entirely because of the scars. Maybe her family were – ashamed. Like she was the price they had paid for their crimes. It was bad to think of it that way, but she wouldn't have wished this upon anybody else. She wouldn't have preferred that Draco had suffered, instead of her. She couldn't do that.

Now that she was back in their lives, however, Aurelia found it hard to adjust. It would take some time for her family to accustom themselves to the fact she was alive. She imagined they had accepted the fact she was lost to them – perhaps with the exception of Narcissa, that is.

That's why being with George was so good for her. He didn't know her before the war, he hadn't been a part of her life. He was the only stable thing in her life now, and Aurelia hated to admit that she needed him to keep going. He was the reason she was trying so hard to be brave. She had to prove that being a Malfoy didn't mean she was a coward.

Well _somebody _had to, didn't they?

So that made it all the more heartbreaking, when she had gone to show George how much he meant to her and how much she appreciated his being around, and he wasn't there. She felt stupid for thinking he'd be staying at home waiting for her to show up. He was a young, handsome man who probably had lots of girls chasing after him.

How could I compete with that? Aurelia thought, a little sadly. I'm all battered and broken. George probably doesn't want a renovation girlfriend, he wants a bright, shiny, new one.

Aurelia blinked. Did she really wish that she was George's girlfriend?

No, she thought to herself. He's a friend. I shouldn't think of him like that, and I shouldn't be so childish. She took the ribbon off the roses and used it to tie her hair back, before she stood up, threw the roses in the fireplace and went upstairs to sleep.

She didn't stay long enough to realise that there was but a sprinkle of floo powder left, which swallowed up the flowers and whooshed them off to the last place she had been…

* * *

George put the note down and sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. He felt so stupid. He should have remembered to see her, considering she was the most important person in his life at the moment, despite the fact he was supposed to be caring for her.

He folded the note up and was about to walk to his bedroom when he heard a familiar crackling sound in the fireplace. He turned, expecting to see somebody walk through, but there was only a very small green flame, and when it returned to its normal shade of red, George saw a small bunch of roses lying on the coals, remaining perfectly intact and beautiful for a moment, before the flames licked at the petals and turned them black.


	40. Chapter 40

Cute and fluffy! The next few are gonna get serious so I thought I'd throw in a bit of nice stuff before that. Enjoy :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty_

The shop was not open in the morning so they could restock and put the remaining Valentine's products in the sales bin, which wasn't much, really. George and Verity spent a few hours shifting products and rearranging the store, and changing the paint on the walls back to its usual purple and orange patterns, instead of the ghastly pink which George hoped he'd never have to see again, knowing if he saw Lavender Brown at any point in time over the next few weeks he'd feel like burning all of her putrid pink clothes.

After that was done, George decided he had to make the most of his time, so as to properly execute the plan he had been thinking up, moulding, making and remaking in his mind since the night before.

"Hey Verity," he said, as they finished putting out Skiving Snackboxes, "Do you mind if I get you to watch the shop for a few hours? I have to go out and buy some stuff."

"Sure thing," she said. "What are you going shopping for?"

"Gifts," said George. "For Aurelia."

"Is it her birthday?"

George shook his head. "No. I thought I'd get her some music, so she can get a hobby. If she doesn't take to it I'll get her other stuff – books, maybe. I thought if I buy her random things all the time, she'll find something she really loves."

Verity stared at George for a moment with a blank expression before she said, in a genuinely surprised voice, "George, that's really sweet."

He shrugged, a smug smile appearing on his face. "Well, what can I say –"

"Oh, I take it back," Verity sighed, throwing her arms in the air. "You're such a cocky bastard."

* * *

A short while later, George found himself with Hermione in a muggle second-hand shop. He had asked Harry but he'd had to go to work, and Hermione was on her lunch break for half an hour so she agreed to point him in the right direction when she gathered what it was he was looking for – but only after much pleading and begging from George. She said she wasn't at all inclined to help him with anything due to the fact he had completely forgotten about Aurelia on Monday, when she'd made the effort to see him. It was only when George said he was shopping for Aurelia that Hermione conceded.

Hermione walked to the back of the second-hand shop, which George would have otherwise been totally lost in. He saw some things he recognised – tea cups, chairs, paintings. But other things were more than a little confusing. The retro phones made no sense to him at all and the antique guns behind the counter were just plain ugly to him.

The LP section was pretty decent – Hermione said he'd need to ask about a record player too, and told George that it didn't matter how broken it was because she'd be able to fix it.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, rather sheepishly adding, "I do feel really stupid about forgetting Aurelia. It was –"

"Despicable," finished Hermione, "She was more than a bit upset. But luckily I'm a forgiving person – I hope Aurelia treats you with the same mercy."

"So do I," said George. He gave her a quick hug and got a slap for deliberately messing up her hair, but earning a smile nonetheless before she left to go back to the Ministry.

George turned to the wall of records and stared at the various covers, the bright pictures, large faces and unusual names all calling out to him in a language he wasn't sure he understood.

It was only after ten minutes of staring at the wall with a blank expression that the man who owned the shop asked if George needed help. George was about to say no, but he paused and then said, "Actually, yes. I don't know a thing about music and I'm trying to organise a gift for my friend."

"Does your friend like music?" asked the man, pulling an old pair of spectacles from his top pocket and putting them on.

George shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. She's been – overseas for quite a while. At – at boarding school. It's kind of like a – like a welcome back present." George quickly made up the story, knowing that if he went into too much detail, the muggle man might call the authorities on the madman in his store.

"Well, that makes things a little more difficult," said the shopkeeper. "But we'll have a crack, eh?"

After trying to decipher what musical taste would best suit Aurelia, the muggle man managed to pick out a number of records based on George's answers. No, she wouldn't like opera, yes she'd probably enjoy upbeat tracks, smooth jazz would probably be good but soft rock might be okay too, I'm not sure…

A short while later, George had about twelve records in his hands, and the muggle man asked if George wanted anything else. When George said he required a record player, the man chuckled to himself as though it were amusing.

"I'm sorry, lad, the only one we've got is broken beyond repair," he said, pointing up at the shelf near the counter, where a dusty old phonograph sat. "It's nice looking but it won't make any sound."

George simply grinned and asked if there was a discount for faulty products.

* * *

All afternoon, George was itching for the day to finish and to get over to the Burrow to spend the rest of the afternoon with Aurelia. Verity told him to stop being so jumpy, but George couldn't help it. It had been so very, very long since he'd put so much thought and effort into a present for anybody. He hadn't been particularly festive the last few years. He was genuinely excited and nervous about how Aurelia would react when he presented the phonograph and records to her.

Verity had said he'd picked some good titles – she was a half-blood so she had a bit more muggle musical knowledge than George. "Play this one," she said, holding up one of the albums. "My dad liked these guys – they're pretty cool."

George took the record from her. It was a relatively new looking album, and on the front it had the words in a big circle around a man's face – _The Psychedelic Furs – Mirror Moves_. Stars adorned the cover, and the bright pink and blue made George feel a little sceptical.

"Psychedelic Furs?" he repeated. "I only took this one because he said it was on special and it wouldn't hurt to have it."

"He was right," said Verity. "It is an excellent album. Play it."

"I am only taking your advice," said George, putting the album pack on top of the pile, "Because I'm afraid of the consequences should I not."

"Smart move."

Stepping through the fireplace at the Burrow nearly resulted in George dropping the new phonograph on his father's head, who was ducking under the table to get something.

"Whoa, Dad!" George exclaimed, stepping around him which made him stumble and nearly drop the load he was carrying. "What are you doing?"

"Dropped my quill," replied Arthur, looking slightly befuddled for a moment before he noticed the giant record player in George's arms. "What on earth have you got there?" He asked after a small pause, that familiar sparkle appearing in his eye whenever he noticed something remotely muggle lying around which he could have a play with.

"It's – a record player," George replied. "A gift for Aurelia. I figure you'd have some fun with it, too, what with it being muggle and all."

"Indeed," said Arthur, "I've never had the chance to examine one. Does it work?"

"Not yet. I'll get it going."

Arthur helped George carry it to the desk against the wall, and as Arthur ran off to grab his little book of information about muggle inventions, George took out his wand and tapped the strange object a few times, muttering a few repairing spells in the hope it would work. To his surprise, the machine seemed to creak for a moment, and then there was a loud crack, which made George jump backwards – straight into Aurelia.

"Merlin, sorry!" he exclaimed, grasping onto her sleeve to stop her stumbling. "Second time in two minutes that's happened."

Aurelia only smiled a little before letting George wrap his arms around her. He held her close, and hugged her for longer than he usually did as he said, "Aurelia, I'm sorry I didn't get to see you yesterday. I – I missed you."

When he let her go, he saw his eyes staring up at her with a solemn expression, before she pointed to herself and then held up too fingers. _Me too._

George gave a small half smile before he said, "Look, I – I got you something." He moved to let Aurelia see the contraption, and she seemed genuinely excited by it. "It's a record player," he said. "For music. I got you some LP records too, they're a bit old but the man in the shop said they were alright."

Aurelia looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, as though to ask him why.

George shrugged. "I know, it's – spontaneous. But I think you must get bored sometimes, so I thought a bit of music would help."

George didn't have to wait long for a smile to light up her face and her small hand slipped into his, squeezing it to say 'thankyou'. He squeezed back gently, staring down at her, and thinking that she looked so lovely. She was wearing Hermione's old burgundy skirt, brown stockings and leather lace up shoes. She was wearing a black three-quarter sleeve shirt. It was too warm inside to wear a jacket. George could see a few scars on her forearms, wrists and hands. He felt a sudden urge to touch them, to gently brush his fingertips across her scars just to see how they felt.

He pushed the feeling away, instead saying, "Come on, shall we see if it works?"

It didn't take too long for George to figure out how it worked – he had more knowledge than some wizards of muggle contraptions but he still struggled a little. He ended up flicking his wand at it and willing it to begin playing – which, surprisingly, worked. The needle dropped and the record began to spin, and a tune began to play.

"Look at that," George said, before he chuckled. "It actually works." He looked back to Aurelia and saw a bright smile on her face, her vanilla eyes sparkling happily as she watched the spinning LP, and the sound of a gentle song began to fill the room.

George had an idea.

He took her hand, and gently lead her out into the room, where he took both of her hands in his and began to dance. Aurelia looked a little bewildered, and for a moment looked as though she were going to move away.

"It's okay," said George, reassuringly. "I just want to dance."

'_A man in my shoes runs alight, and all the pages lie tonight, but falling over you is the news of the day…'_

Aurelia's frown receded and she let George gently lead her in a gentle dance, spinning her around carefully and swaying her back and forth to the lazy beat of the song. The moment of initial confusion had left her, and George saw a smile begin to tug at the corners of her lips as she let him twirl her around, her skirt twisting around her legs as she did so.

'_Angels fall like rain, and love, love, love is all of heaven away…'_

She was graceful, and wonderfully elegant. Her hair caught the light of the lamps as they danced, her feet not stepping on his once and George had to make sure he didn't step on hers. She was smiling like he'd never seen her smile before. George couldn't help but laugh as she nearly stumbled as he got his large feet in the way, and for a moment she was embarrassed but George wouldn't give her enough time to get too worried about it, instead putting his arm around her middle and pretending to dance a tango.

'_Inside you, the time moves, and she don't fade… the ghost in you, she don't fade.'_

George felt the warmth of her skin through her shirt and realised how much he missed being close to her. He stopped dancing stupidly and let himself slow down, holding her gently as they swayed.

'_A race is on, I'm on your side, and hearing you my engines die. I'm in a mood for you, or running away…'_

The silence was wonderful. It wasn't quiet, obviously, because there was music playing, but George loved that he could just be with her and feel silence. Not having to speak to break the silence, not having to say something awkward to make things seem okay. He didn't have to say anything with Aurelia, he didn't have to explain himself or give excuses for why he behaved the way he did. She didn't constantly tiptoe around his grief like it wasn't there.

It was, in the most unusual way possible, like she knew. It wasn't true, of course, but maybe it was subconscious. Everybody else in George's life treated him like half of a whole – because that's what he was. That's what he'd always been.

'_Stars come down in you… and love, love, love, you can't give it away…'_

But for Aurelia, he wasn't. There wasn't something missing, there wasn't anything wrong. She didn't know him before the war and she didn't know Fred. She didn't look at George and feel sad because there was only one twin there. She didn't look at him and pity him, because he wasn't as happy – because when he was with her, he didn't have to try to be happy. He didn't have to pretend he was okay.

It was strange. But the silence was more comforting than any words George had heard from anybody else. And Aurelia seemed to understand that George simply wanted to be with her, so as the songs changed and the music moved to a different beat, she let him continue to sway her back and forth like he was rocking her to sleep, and let him hold her close as they simply moved together, shifting from one foot to the next.


	41. Chapter 41

Took a little longer than usual but I had some doctors appointments and family stuffs and a university open day, so I am glad this is finally finished. I hope you like it, stay tuned, you will not be disappointed :) (I hope!)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty One_

His foot tapped impatiently on the cold stone floor, staring out of the open window to the grounds of the Manor. George had brushed his hair and put on a sleek grey suit which Ron lent to him for the day (though Molly had adjusted the seams slightly to cater for George's height). He wore a plain black shirt and tie, and had polished his shoes as well, and now he just had to wait for Aurelia.

George wasn't looking forward to today. Harry had explained the situation – Aurelia had to go to the Department of Law Enforcement to talk to the Aurors about her ordeal, and to identify Death Eaters. Narcissa had been delaying the meeting for as long as she possibly could, though both she and her husband had met with the Aurors on a number of occasions. She didn't want her cause her daughter any more pain.

But it was inevitable. The Wizenagamot were becoming impatient, and Shacklebolt had put his foot down, saying it was in the best interests of the greater wizarding community. They had to catch the Death Eaters, and do to that they needed Aurelia.

So George had brought her over to the Malfoy Manor where she was to prepare for her meeting. Harry told them to expect a bit of attention – there were always reporters lingering around the ministry, and they were going to try to keep a low profile so as to avoid attention. Hardly anybody knew about Aurelia's return, and it had been pure luck that she'd managed to stay out of the newspapers for so long.

So the plan was this – Draco and Lucius would enter the Ministry first, followed by Narcissa and Aurelia, followed by George and Harry who was going to be waiting at the entrance for them. They hoped that in this manner they could avoid attention and move swiftly through the entrance to the Department without too much trouble.

The hearing, however, was in a month or so – and though it was to be a private hearing, the Ministry had to publish which hearings were taking place in the records, and reporters would often rifle through them to find out which hearings were on, so they could get a story of some kind.

George sighed, running his hand across his freshly shaved jaw. It wasn't the hearing yet, but he still wasn't looking forward to it.

A moment later, Draco wandered down the stairs to the main room, where George was waiting. George managed a grim smile and said, "All well?"

Draco shrugged. "As well as it can be." He looked far smarter than George, wearing a slim black suit (obviously tailored). His style was far simpler than some upper-class wizards but it seemed to work quite well.

A moment later the fire in the huge white marble fireplace lit up in a violent green and a young woman walked through.

Draco turned, and the frown on his face disappeared. "Astoria," he said.

It took a moment for George to recognise her, but it was only because she was far more formally dressed than last time, wearing a black figure hugging pencil skirt, a silvery-blue silk shirt and a half-sleeved black blazer, with black tights and pumps. Her hair was up in a bun, the left side braided back elegantly.

She smiled at Draco and moved towards him. "Good morning, Draco."

"I thought you were working this morning," he said, a little confused.

"I was, but I asked Andie for the morning off," replied Astoria. "I told her it was urgent family business."

Draco smiled a little. "Thankyou," he said quietly, before taking her cheek in his palm and gently kissing her cheek.

A moment later Draco put his hand on her back and turned her, saying, "You remember George, don't you?"

"Of course," said Astoria, smiling and stepping towards George with her hand held out. "I wouldn't easily forget such an important man."

George couldn't help but laugh. "You're too kind," he said as he shook her hand. "So are you coming with us?"

Astoria nodded. "I wouldn't miss it."

George had opened his mouth to say more but he heard the muttering voices of Lucius and Narcissa as they came down the stairs. Lucius came first, wearing a fine suit and a flowing, heavy robe on his shoulders, his long hair pulled back and his stubble, like George's, had been shaved.

Narcissa followed, and wore a deep emerald green chiffon dress and a black fur coat, black tights and small heels, and also black gloves. Her black and blonde-streaked hair was pulled back from her face.

Then, George saw Aurelia turn down the stairs. She looked wonderful. She wore a knee-length black silk dress, and solid white stockings and heels which looked far newer and more expensive than any of the ones Ginny and Hermione had given her. She wore a long-sleeved, slightly baggy jacket which had embellished flowers and beads on the right side. She also had a silk scarf wrapped around her neck, and black gloves on her hands. The only visible skin showing was her face, and the scars there had been covered with makeup. Her hair had been combed straight and looked far more like her mother's silky smooth hair, and it was hanging across her face.

She looked so wonderful, and so smart. She looked older, but somehow it still didn't seem right to George. He liked her better in jeans and sweaters. But she was still beautiful.

George blinked, and stood up, brushing down his jacket. He caught her eye and he saw her smile at him softly. He reached out and took her gloved hand in his, and said to her, "You look – very nice, Aurelia."

Lucius stood beside Aurelia and said, "George is right. You look lovely." Quite tentatively, the elder Malfoy reached his hand up and gently touched her hair, before he placed a small kiss on her forehead. Aurelia didn't move, but simply smiled up at him when he moved away.

Lucius then checked his silver pocket watch, and said, "We should get going. The meeting is in ten minutes."

Draco and Astoria moved to stand beside Lucius at the fireplace, while Narcissa and Aurelia waited behind them. Lucius turned and said, "Wait for ten seconds before following. Try to get an empty elevator, and head straight to the Department of Law Enforcement. Narcissa, you know how to get there?"

Narcissa nodded, and she gently took Aurelia's hand in her own.

"Very well," said Lucius. "We shall see you there." He took a handful of floo powder from the ornate bowl beside the fireplace, before throwing it into the flames and saying clearly, "Ministry of Magic, London," and stepping into the flames. Draco and Astoria followed before the flames returned to normal.

Narcissa counted ten seconds under her breath as she grasped a shaky handful of the floo powder, and when she reached one, she did the same as Lucius, stepping through with her hand holding tightly onto Aurelia's.

Those ten seconds were incredibly painful for George. He could almost see the journalists flooding around Aurelia as she stepped through into the hall. He wondered how long it would take before they realised who she was.

He didn't know how long it had been, but he reached for the floo powder. He didn't really care, to be honest. It wasn't like him being close behind would matter too much.

He let himself be swallowed by the green fire as he was rushed to the Ministry of Magic, and stepped out to the bustling entrance hall of the Ministry. He glanced around as the crowd pulled him along. There was never a quiet day at the Ministry.

George felt panic rising as he tried to find one of the members of his troupe – it was only a second later he saw the shining white hair of Lucius standing about fifty metres away. He then glanced between them and saw the top of Narcissa's bun as she walked along, keeping a tight hold on Aurelia.

George's eyes scanned the room. He couldn't see any reporters where they were. Not just yet.

Lucius lead the way as they all caught up to each other, George following behind casually as though he weren't with them. It was his job to ward off the journalists and to let Lucius know if they were in any real trouble. He could see a few reporters talking to each other by the huge golden fountain, one of them scratching his head with his quill while the other, a very short woman, nodded and waved her hands about as she spoke.

Then George saw her eyes lock onto the Malfoys, and she brought her friend's attention to the presence of the upper-class wizarding family. They both moved diagonally across the room, and George realised they were going to try to cut Lucius off to ask him questions.

George hissed loud enough for Narcissa to hear, "Reporters, to the right. Tell Lucius to hurry up."

Narcissa nodded and she leaned forward to let Lucius know. George saw Harry standing by the corridor to the elevators, leaning against the wall as he waited for them. George pointed to the reporters and when Harry spotted them, he nodded and gave George the thumbs up.

So as Lucius ushered his family into an empty elevator, Harry intercepted the reporters and asked them to stand back. They hammered him with questions – what were they doing there, what was Mr Potter doing to help them, was that a Weasley getting into the elevator with them? Was this to do with the recent Death Eater raid in Wales? Could Mr Potter comment on that recent activity?

"No comments," said Harry. "Just clear off, thanks."

Even when he was telling reporters off he was nice. George rolled his eyes at Harry as he jumped into the elevator with the Malfoys and he pressed the buttons to get them to the Department of Law Enforcement.

"Thanks," said George. "I was hoping there wouldn't be any, but…"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Wishful thinking."

He didn't speak to the Malfoys at all. George knew that though Harry didn't hold any real grudges against them, he was still uncomfortable being near them. It was understandable, considering what he'd been through.

The elevator was shaky as it threw them about, taking them further into the ground and coming to an abrupt halt at the Department. Harry held open the door as they exited, before he lead them towards the room where they were to be meeting.

They made their way into a large room, with a big oak table in the centre and an enchanted window with a view of Venice outside. It always made George a little confused but it was a nice room nonetheless. The walls were a pale cream colour. It felt very light and open.

Harry invited them to take a seat, and excused himself to get Gawain and the other Aurors. Narcissa and Lucius sat beside Aurelia, while Draco and Astoria sat beside Lucius. George went to sit beside Narcissa, when she moved and said, "No, dear, you can sit next to Aurelia."

George was a little taken aback as Narcissa moved Aurelia to her seat, and sat beside her husband. Aurelia smiled a little at her mother and George tried to ignore the stony look on Lucius' face as he sat down beside her.

Narcissa spoke to Lucius about how they planned to get out without attracting too much attention, now that the reporters knew they were there, while they waited. George saw Aurelia sitting very straight up in her seat, staring at her hands in her lap as she waited. He reached over to her and gently took her gloved hand in his, removed the glove and then held her hand.

Aurelia looked up at him and smiled, squeezing his hand. She was nervous.

"It's okay," said George quietly. "It will be okay."

She didn't get a chance to respond as the doors opened, and in walked Gawain Robards. George felt Aurelia squeezing tightly on his hand as she took in the Auror, who was, now that George thought about it, rather frightening. Kingsley Shacklebolt followed him, with a cheery smile on his face, and after them came Harry and, to George's great horror, Adriana.

She was wearing her usual black pencil-skirt, blouse and heels get-up, with her hair tightly braided and her eyes narrow and cat-like. He almost forgot how fierce her eyes were. She nodded at the Malfoys, and only gave George a quick glance before sitting down and proceeding to look at Aurelia. George remembered that she'd never seen her before.

He felt suddenly protective of Aurelia, and he held her hand tightly.

"Welcome, Malfoys," said Gawain in his deep voice, clasping his hands together on the table. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Thankyou, Mister Robards," said Lucius politely. "I'm sorry we couldn't come earlier, but Aurelia's health is of our upmost concern."

"Of course," said Gawain. "I'm just glad she feels better now." George saw him give a small smile to Aurelia, who was still staring at the table and didn't see it.

Gawain cleared his throat. "Now, of course, we have to discuss the hearing – we need to see if your daughter is fit to stand as a witness to the crimes the convicted undesirables have committed. How early do you think we can set a trial date?"

To this question, Lucius was slightly lost. He looked to Narcissa, who looked at Aurelia, who looked at the table. Lucius spoke, his voice lacking its usual conviction, saying, "To be perfectly honest, Mr Robards, we don't expect our daughter to do anything she's not comfortable with."

Kingsley Shacklebolt leant forward and he asked, "Excuse me for asking, Mister Malfoy, but from what we've read in the health files, it was stated she wasn't able to speak. Is this still an issue?"

Both the Malfoy parents turned to look at George, who nodded.

"I see," said Kingsley. "Do you expect this problem will be fixed anytime soon?"

"We can't be sure," said Lucius. "Aurelia has – she's been through a lot."

Kingsley simply nodded. His ability to understand pain, and his careful and kind nature was one George found very rare in high-up Ministers. He was a very compassionate man.

It was then Adriana who spoke, saying, "Would it be possible, sir, for your daughter to identify the undesirables who did commit crimes against her?"

Lucius frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Even if she cannot stand in front of the Wizenagamot, would she be able to indicate whether or not we need to press charges?" asked Adriana. "Can she give us evidence to do so?"

Lucius' dislike for Adriana's probing question was obvious as his polite voice took on an icy tone and his eyes became dark. "One only needs to look at the scars to see the damage done to her by those people."

Adriana sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. She didn't appreciate the tone. George was dancing on the inside at seeing her shut down.

"I'm afraid to say it, but Miss Scrimgeour is right," said Harry. "We need to know how many and what charges to press. But if Aurelia is unable to at the moment, we can press charges based on what we know and bring them in at a later date for re-trial, should she feel able to give her evidence."

Narcissa nodded and Lucius said, "I think that is the better option."

The next few hours were painful for George, both due to all the talk of torture and mistreatment and deprivation of liberties – that was painful enough without having to give Adriana a deep freeze and not accidentally slip his wand and curse her. He was itching to curse her. He hadn't felt that way since he'd been in second year potions and that was years ago.

But Aurelia squeezing tightly on his hand didn't hurt at all.


	42. Chapter 42

I would just like to say thanks for everybody who has reviewed my story so far :) I actually went back through the reviews and send a personal thank you to everybody who had reviewed who I hadn't got a chance to thank yet. And for the record I love you all dearly!

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty Two_

"Mister Malfoy!"

"Excuse me –"

"Where has Aurelia been all these years?"

"Keep _away_! Get back, for crying out loud –"

"Was she involved at the Welsh raid?"

"Comment for the _Prophet_, Mrs Malfoy?"

"Get – get your cameras out of the way! _Move!_"

Harry and Gawain's efforts were almost pointless as the swarm of reporters, yelling voices and flashing cameras closed in as soon as they had left the elevator. They formed a tight circle around the Malfoys and Aurelia, who stood shaking in the very middle. They hadn't even made it to the fountain when they were completely surrounded.

George was holding onto one of Aurelia's hands while Draco cradled her head keeping the photographers away from her face. She kept her head down and her hair across her face, but George felt her white-knuckled hand holding tightly onto his like she would never let go.

George felt a deliberate tug on his sleeve and he heard Lucius' voice in his ear, which said in a hiss, "You and Draco take Aurelia to the Burrow. We'll meet you there."

George frowned, and whispered back over his shoulder, "What just – take her and run?"

"Yes," Lucius replied. "Go!"

George nodded at Draco who had heard the conversation and nodded back. Lucius stepped in front of them and he took out his wand, and with a swift flick, a thousand pages of note paper and parchment and film went flying into the air in a whirlwind. There were a number of yells and shouts from the reporters, and amongst the flying papers George and Draco ran, almost carrying Aurelia as they made a dash to the fireplaces along the corridor.

George ran ahead and threw a handful of floo powder into the fire, careful to not let the reporters hear where they were going, before all three of them launched into the flames and were whisked back to the Burrow.

Molly was in the lounge room knitting when the three burst through the fireplace in a heap, falling over and landing on the floor. Luckily Aurelia landed on Draco, and George managed to stumble over the table without falling and breaking it.

"Oh my goodness!" Molly exclaimed, dropping her knitting needles on the couch as her hand flew to her chest. She caught her breath only for a moment before she leapt up to help them off the floor. "What – what happened?"

George tried to regain his breath. "We – we were swarmed. Reporters."

Molly sighed. "Oh lord, I thought – well, never mind. At least you escaped."

Draco and Aurelia stood up, and Draco immediately made sure she was okay. She was still very shaky, and unsteady, but she nodded when he asked her if she was alright. He gave her a tight hug and helped her out of her jacket, placing it on the back of the couch.

"Come on, dear, sit yourself down. I'll go make tea," said Molly with a smile, before she went off to the kitchen.

George sat down on the couch, and Draco sat Aurelia down beside him. With George's arm around her and Draco kneeling in front of her, holding her hands, she was safe again and her shaking soon faded, the colour returning to her cheeks and the tears of fright drying up.

"That was – intense," said George after a moment of silence.

Draco nodded. "We need to get some more Aurors next time we plan on making a trip to the Ministry."

Aurelia gave a heavy sigh into George's shoulder and George couldn't help but laugh – it was as though she were saying to her brother, 'You don't say?' Draco smiled too, a rare sight, and Aurelia managed a weak smile in return.

"We're very proud of you," said George. "That was – not a fun meeting. But you did well."

Draco nodded. "Definitely. Considering it's the first time you've been outside."

George and Aurelia shared a moment of held breath, but Draco didn't notice. Instead, he stood up when Molly came back with their tea, and he said, "George, might I borrow you a moment?"

"But, Aurelia is –"

"It'll be quick," he said, and gave George a long stare which told him he wanted to speak to him, and it was something he couldn't say in front of Aurelia. George nodded, and he gave Aurelia one last smile before he stood up, taking his cup of tea and following Draco into the kitchen.

Draco placed his hand on the table, before standing up straight again and then scratching his head. George sighed, saying, "Draco, you said this would be quick."

"Yes, I just – it's difficult to ask," said Draco, his voice little louder than a mutter. He blinked and shook his head, and said, "I'll be simple. What's going on between you and Adriana now?"

George felt a little rush of anger, but he contained it. Draco didn't know what had gone on between himself and Adriana. He couldn't be bothered with a detailed explanation though, so he replied bluntly, "Well, I did really like her. But then I met her fiancée."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Fiancée? She's engaged?"

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

"You could say that," Draco replied, still looking slightly buffeted by the information. "Who's she engaged to?"

"Jacoby Alderton," said George, taking a sip of tea to calm himself. "He's in the broomstick business."

Draco nodded. "I recognised the name. So – you're not upset?"

George shrugged, feeling a little deflated. "Of course I am. But she – she was just a fancy lover."

"Fancy lover?" Draco repeated, frowning. "What does that mean?"

"It means – it means that she's unable to love one person," George replied. "She's out of my league, and I – I thought I would be able to keep her. But fancy lovers need other fancy lovers. I'm not one of them," he finished with a bitter chuckle.

Draco nodded, and he said, "I'm sorry, George."

"Don't be."

"So – so you haven't spoken to her?"

"Nope," responded George. "She's made some attempts to communicate but I've ignored her owls, burned her letters. I can't afford to have that kind of drama while I'm committed to looking after your sister."

Draco said to George then, something rather genuine and blunt that it stuck in George's memory for many years later. He said, "You are the best thing that's happened to this family, do you know that?" When George didn't reply, he kept going. "We were – broken. A long time before Aurelia went missing. Not having her with us for these past few years – it made us realise, particularly my father, that we'd made wrong decisions. But never for the wrong reasons."

"Draco, I'm sorry –"

"No, don't be," he said, repeating George's earlier words as he held up his hand. "I just – I wanted to let you know that we'd probably be much worse for wear if you hadn't come along. We need – no, I needed Aurelia back to prove that what I was doing wasn't because I was a bad person."

George felt a sudden heaviness press on him, as though he had never truly known the extent of the trauma of the Malfoy family had gone through, through the terrible things they had to endure through the war and the aftermath, the loss of Aurelia, not to mention their near excommunication from society.

George reached out and put his hand on Draco's shoulder, and he said, "Honestly, Draco, I needed to do this. I haven't ever recovered from – from losing my brother. I need Aurelia because – because I'm nothing without her."

After a lengthy pause, Draco nodded, and he said quietly, "Thankyou."

"Come on, let's go smother your sister with affection."

* * *

It was the late the next morning when Aurelia finally managed to rustle herself out of bed. She let her eyes slowly open, heavy with sleepiness, and after a long cat-like stretch on the bed she rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, a yawn escaping from her mouth in what she supposed was a rather ugly way. Yawning so hugely wasn't at all ladylike. She smiled a little.

Aurelia had fallen asleep the previous afternoon, just after her parents had left. (Now there was an awkward moment she never wanted to revisit for as long as she lived.) Almost immediately after they went home, Aurelia confessed she couldn't stay awake for dinner because she was exhausted. She didn't know why – Molly had said something about being weary and George had observed that she was probably emotionally drained and a nice long sleep would do her nothing but good.

So Aurelia had thanked them for being so supportive of her, and George had walked her up the stairs and helped put the medicine on her back. It was something he did almost every night now, though some nights he couldn't make it and Aurelia would simply sleep on her stomach. She felt herself blush at the thought of his careful hands touching her bare skin. It was – it was childish. But she really did look forward to it. George was the person she trusted most.

And he had very nice hands.

Aurelia blushed again. She made herself sit up, feeling a lot better than she had the day before. She suddenly longed to do something daring. Something that she hadn't been able to do. Something… outrageous. Something her mother would desperately disapprove of.

Okay, maybe not that drastic. But Aurelia felt like doing something brave.

Aurelia had resorted to a long hot shower to wake herself up. She liked the upstairs bathroom. It was painted blue and cream and yellow, and had a rocking picture of a boat on the wall. It was a calming experience. Going without proper showers for two years had helped Aurelia appreciate the wonder of personal hygiene. It was funny, she'd never considered how lucky she was to shower before going through her ordeal.

Aurelia was careful to wash her hair thoroughly and comb it through with her fingers, noting how long it was. It had been shoulder-length when she was at Hogwarts. She donned a pair of soft, worn jeans, a white shirt and a black cardigan, and went downstairs to find a small gathering around the table for lunch. Molly had made sandwiches for herself and Arthur, as well as Hermione and Ron who had come to visit, bringing Teddy Lupin with them, who they were looking after that day.

"Oh, you're up," said Molly. "Would you like some lunch, dear?"

Aurelia smiled and nodded, wandering over from the stairs to sit at the table with them. She smiled as Teddy made baby noises at her when she sat down, and wiggled his fingers in her direction until Hermione passed him over.

"Looks like I've been usurped," said Hermione with a laugh, watching as Teddy played with Aurelia's still slightly damp hair.

Aurelia enjoyed listening to them talk about family, about the Ministry, about things they'd read in the Prophet, about the stupid new books Hermione spent more money on (Ron) and the unnecessary Quidditch magazines Ron had subscribed to (Hermione). It was just like a normal family.

It was only after lunch that Hermione exclaimed, "Oh I forgot! Aurelia, I bought you a present."

Aurelia was slightly surprised but she felt overjoyed when Hermione rushed over to the counter to grab the bag for her, which contained a beautiful, high-waisted pink floral skirt. Aurelia could never remember having owned anything so bright, or flowery, or carefree. It looked like something her mother would cringe at. It was perfect.

Aurelia ran upstairs straight away to try it on. It was brand new, it was perfect, it was – a little too big for her waist, but she grabbed a black belt she'd stolen from Ginny the week before to hold it up. It fell a little past her knees. Aurelia could see a few scars on her legs, but she realised she didn't care. It was so much nicer when she didn't have to wear stockings. So instead she put on a pair of socks and Mary Janes, and when she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror she realised that she missed being _pretty_.

Aurelia smiled at her reflection for the first time in weeks. She was pretty.

She did the only thing she could think of to do. Aurelia went back downstairs, and asked if she could go to see George.


	43. Chapter 43

I didn't like writing this much but it's necessary to understand a few major concepts in the story... so don't hate me, I promise I'll make it up to you. Thanks for all the marvelous reviews, I am so honoured to have such kind readers.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty Three_

When Aurelia arrived at the apartment, there wasn't anybody there. She thought perhaps George would be taking a lunch break but by the looks of things he hadn't. But Aurelia didn't mind. She could wait a while for him to come back upstairs, as he did when he needed a toilet break or to send a letter. He wouldn't be long.

Aurelia sat herself down on the couch opposite the fireplace when she saw she had sat down next to a bag. It certainly didn't look like the kind of bag that belonged to George – it was a large black leather bag with ornate gold buckles and clasps. Aurelia stared around the room again in case she'd missed something – but there wasn't anybody there.

So, doing what came naturally to her as a Slytherin, she invaded the privacy of whoever's bag it was by reaching over and opening the clasp to take a look inside.

There were a lot of things in there. Glasses case, hairbrush, diary – Aurelia opened the planner, also made of black leather, and saw a name written on the front page in a messy scrawl – after a moment of narrow-eyed deciphering, she saw that it read 'Property of Janelle Scrimgeour', followed by a post-office box address. Aurelia recognised the name but couldn't quite remember it.

There wasn't anything of much use in the planner, just the usual appointments and job interviews and stuff you'd find in a personal organiser. Aurelia put it down in favour of looking at some more interesting things – when to her great surprise, saw her name printed on a small piece of thin parchment.

She pulled it out of the bag, and found a small photo of herself stapled to the back, from her hearing not yesterday morning. There was a large red _DRAFT _stamp which covered the text. Aurelia frowned, and began to read the article.

_Breaking news – the youngest daughter of the aristocrat Lucius Malfoy and his wife Narcissa, Aurelia Luciana Malfoy, who was missing and presumed dead since 1998 was yesterday seen at the Ministry of Magic with her parents, brother Draco and fiancée Astoria Greengrass, Head Auror Gawain Robards and his deputy Harry Potter, and George Weasley of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley. The unusual troupe answered no questions and did not make any statements to reporters, though it is believed Aurelia is in the middle of the recently uncovered Death Eater clans residing in Wales, whose hideouts were recently raided this month by Aurors and Unspeakables. The Malfoy's involvement in this issue is not yet known. It is believed that Mr Weasley has been housing Miss Malfoy until such a time as her own home is safe to return to. More on this story will be reported as it develops._

There were a few scrawls in red ink on the paper – one which said in heavily slanted writing '_Good work J – send thru final copy for front page. LK_'.

Aurelia felt her chest tighten as though somebody were pulling tightly on a corset and her pulse began to pound in her ears and through the arteries in her neck with alarming force. A high pitched sound rang in her ears and she felt herself beginning to breathe unevenly.

Aurelia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and forced herself to stay calm. Find George, she thought. George will fix this. He can fix anything.

She stood, grasping the paper in her hand and trying not to crumple it too much as she walked quickly through the house. She was about to head downstairs to the shop when she heard a voice coming from the hall. Aurelia paused and turned slowly.

"… sorry about the other night, George, but I –"

"No, no, not at all. I really can't stay and talk, I have to get back to the shop."

"I'm sure Verity won't mind you staying a little longer…"

Aurelia moved slowly, recognising George's voice and feeling both a little nervous and relieved at the same time. She stepped in front of the doorway to the study and nothing could have prepared her for what she saw next.

Aurelia saw George's hair first, as bright red and messy as ever, but then she saw two hands running through it. She had long dark hair and was wearing a dark blue blouse and black trousers, a pair of sturdy heels on her feet. Aurelia felt herself shake, but whether it was anger or rage she couldn't be sure, when she realised that her lips were attached to George's, and for a moment they stood there, with the strange woman pressed up against George, and he was simply letting her do it.

But then he placed both hands on the woman's shoulders and pushed her away, and said with a sigh, "No, Janelle, you know I don't –" His eyes landed on Aurelia in the doorway and they suddenly became very wide and very shocked.

"Aurelia!" he exclaimed, immediately letting go of Janelle, and rushing to the doorway – but Aurelia had turned and she felt adrenaline pumping through her veins as she ran back to the fireplace, wishing for a moment that she didn't run away every time something frightened her, but she was already crying before she'd reached the kitchen.

* * *

George felt a great cold hand gripping his heart in shock and horror at what had just happened, and as he heard the whooshing of the fireplace he was prepared to go straight after her – but then he realised he should rid himself of his guest before doing so.

He walked back down the hall and was ready to ask Janelle to leave when he saw Aurelia's face on a photograph, lying in the corridor. He reached down to pick it up and found a piece of parchment next to it, and as he was reading it Janelle walked out from the study.

"George, I –" she began but she froze when she saw what he was holding. "Where did you get that?"

"What is this?" George asked, unable to believe what he was reading. "You – you're writing about Aurelia? I thought you were a biographer!"

"I am, George," Janelle said, desperation seeping into her voice, "It's just that – I need to get good stories or I won't keep my job. Adriana said that –"

"So Adriana's in on this too?" George demanded, his voice louder than he meant, but unable to control his anger as his hands shook. "Do – do you realise how serious this is?"

"Please, I –"

"Do you have _any idea _how much she has gone through?" he hissed, pointing at the direction Aurelia had run. "Do you think this is all just a game to you, that you can violate someone's privacy for a good news story?"

Janelle was still trying to calm George down but he was not able to be calmed. "George, please, it's nothing –"

"It's front _fucking _page, Janelle!" George yelled. "Can I not trust any of you damned Scrimgeour girls? You can't even pretend to be my friend for a week before you ruin my life, before you ruin Aurelia's life!"

Janelle was now speechless as George tore up the picture and the paper, and he said in a low mutter, "Get out."

"I'm so –"

"Get out!" he growled. "And if I see anything in your damned paper by you about Aurelia I promise I won't let it slide."

Janelle opened her mouth to speak but George had already walked into the lounge room and grabbed her bag off the couch, threw it at her and walked back out of the room to his bedroom.

* * *

George threw himself on his bed, knowing he had to apologise to Aurelia but unable to do so in his current angry state. He had to calm down. He shoved his face into his palms and he groaned. He always managed to screw it up. She depended on him and he let her down – again.

_Nice one mate,_ a familiar voice echoed in his mind.

"Piss off, Fred," George groaned. "I don't need you making me feel any worse."

_You don't need my help there, George._

George sighed. He rarely had conversations in his head with his dead brother, it was usually only a smart comment here and there or his name every now and again like a forgotten tape recorder. But now it seemed Fred was very much alive in his mind, and times like these used to freak George out a bit. But he longed to hear his brother's voice.

"Help me out Freddie," he said, feeling the hot anger simmer down, replaced by his guilt and shame. "I can't seem to do anything right these days."

_You're not dead._

"Lucky me," George muttered. His mind saw again and again the look on Aurelia's face as she stood in the doorway, her pale face looking sick with shock, her hands shaking, her skirt trailing behind her as she ran away…

Oh Merlin, thought George. Her skirt. She was wearing a new skirt. She'd come around to hang out and show George her new skirt and she'd found him being accosted by another woman.

_Tosspot._

George sighed. He knew he wasn't going to solve any problems lying around. But he felt a little calmer now. He stood up to go downstairs, to tell Verity he was going out for a bit, leaving her and Oliver in charge of the shop, before he made his way to the fireplace to go to the Burrow.

* * *

She wasn't in the lounge, the kitchen, Charlie's room or any of the other bedrooms. She wasn't out the front with Molly in the garden or with Arthur in the shed. George tugged angrily at his hair as he tried to think of somewhere, anywhere that she could be.

"Why are you so flustered George?" asked Molly, frowning. "Nothing bad has happened, I hope?"

"Yes, but not – not life-threatening bad," he said. "I just made a mistake and I think I hurt Aurelia's feelings."

Molly's smile faded. "Oh, George," she said, a little too sadly, "We all make mistakes. I'm sure, when you find her, she'll forgive you in an instant."

"I hope so," he muttered, mostly to himself as he moved to go back inside to search some more, when he saw the tree house. He didn't know what made him think that she would be there, but he ran over to the old, rattly wooden house in the big oak tree. The ladder seemed a lot smaller than George remembered it being as he reached up and placed his hand on it, pausing for a moment before he pulled himself up and in less than three steps he was up the ladder.

Funny, it used to be a lot higher, too.

In the tiny little room, he saw her there, sitting beside the hole in the side of the hut they called a window with her head leaning against the wall, staring out at the countryside. She glanced at George but didn't smile, or frown, or make any facial expressions at all. Her eyes were red and she sat with her hands in her lap. George noticed she'd changed from her skirt and cardigan to jeans and a baggy old sweater.

"Why'd you change out of your skirt?" George asked, as he pulled himself into the tree house, moving to sit cross legged across from her. She didn't respond to his question in the slightest.

George sighed. He tried to find the right words to say. "Look Aurelia – I never meant to get close to Janelle. I didn't expect she was going to – to kiss me. Or anything like that. And I never thought she would betray me by writing that article about you."

Aurelia still did not reply but George saw a small tear escape from the inside corner of her eye and roll down to the edge of her nose. George felt like she'd taken a hold of his heart and pulled it out of his chest. It hurt so much to see her crying.

George crawled over to her and he sat beside her, and he brushed her hair back from her face, and he said quietly as he combed his fingertips through her golden hair, "I never meant to hurt you. I only want to make you happy."

He watched her for a moment before he said with a smile, "And by the way, you looked very pretty in your skirt." He gently pressed his lips to her head and let her hair fall back down.

He saw her eyes close and she let out a shaky breath, before she reached over and took his hand in hers, before holding it and resting both of their hands on the floor between them, and that's how they stayed for however long it was – just holding hands, not having to say anything. Because George understood then that nothing he could do would be bad enough that Aurelia couldn't forgive him.

But he never wanted to see her cry again.


	44. Chapter 44

Sorry it's a few days late, had some hospital stuff and a huge assignment for school! But it's here now. I hope you liiiiike it :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty Four_

It was a few days later when George was standing in his kitchen, making himself a cup of tea with his breakfast when there was a familiar whooshing sound of a person arriving through the fireplace. George turned and saw Aurelia.

"Good morning," he said cheerily. "Cup of tea?"

She nodded and wandered over to stand beside the bench.

"Have a good sleep?" George asked as he fetched another cup for Aurelia, who replied to his question with a wavering hand – okay, but not great. She then pointed at George, to ask him the same question.

"Me? Not bad," he replied. "Bit of tossing and turning but I got there eventually." He grinned as he threw a teabag in the cup. "Need any breakfast or has Mum shovelled enough into you already?"

It was a rhetorical question and Aurelia knew it. She simply smiled and took the mug of tea from George carefully and nodded her thanks. She hadn't mentioned the incident from the other day, and she hadn't told anybody. George hadn't brought it up again and the fact she'd agreed to help him out was a sign that she didn't hate him, and the fact she hadn't run away from him the last few days and was smiling at him again was a sign she had forgiven him.

"So, all ready for your first day at work?" said George with a grin. "C'mon, I'll show you the study. I cleaned it just for you."

When at dinner the other night, Molly had asked George if she had anything to help Aurelia kill some time during the day, and George had responded with a shrug, Arthur had made an astonishingly good suggestion.

"You used to do those mail-orders, didn't you George?" he asked, between bites of chocolate cake. "Why don't you do that anymore?"

"Well, that was when we were running our business out of Aunt Muriel's garden shed," George said with a laugh. "Now that the shop's open again, it doesn't run anymore."

"Maybe you should," said Ron. "Zonko's is out of business in Hogsmeade – they never picked up the shop again after the War. Hogwarts kids are dying for some prank gear."

George had thought about it for a day or so before he decided that it was a brilliant way to further expand his business. Mail orders were becoming more and more popular with many other businesses, including Flourish and Blott's and the Apothecary, so why not Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes? George had set up the study with a bigger desk and stacked a number of different sized boxes in a cupboard he'd bought in a second-hand furniture shop, and brought Aurelia's record player and LPs over which he had placed on a table near the window, so she could listen to music.

Her job was to be the Director of Mail Orders. George decided it was perfect because she could help out, get involved and not actually have to deal with any people or confrontations. It was a perfectly safe and secure job and she was totally capable of doing it.

George had been handing out mail-order catalogues for 'same-day delivery' (between 8am and 5pm) He'd handed flyers out in the shop, placed advertisements on notice boards, put a notice in the Quibbler and announced it to most of Diagon Alley at lunchtime via a fireworks display in the sky. He'd also borrowed Hedwig II (Harry's owl) and Pigwidgeon to help Clover take bundles of letters to Hogwarts. George had already organised for Neville to collect them and hand them out to students at random.

It was nice having friends who worked at Hogwarts. It was good for business.

After all that, George was ready for the orders. He had stacked boxes and boxes of every product available in an expandable trunk, so Aurelia could climb down the ladder and fetch whatever she needed. There were also pre-boxed gift sets, like WonderWitch gift boxes and Fireworks Big Bang Box, as well as the ever-popular Skiving Snackboxes.

The letters were due to start arriving today, so George had set up quill, ink and paper, and had bought a lot more owl treats for the owls sent to pick up deliveries. Aurelia had wholeheartedly agreed to taking on the job, and she was now on the payroll and was an official employee of the store.

George knew it would be immensely helpful, and it was another step towards getting a second store in Hogsmeade.

They arrived in the study, and George showed Aurelia where everything was. It was fairly straightforward. He'd already put on Elvis Presley, Greatest Hits on the record player and had the window open, ready for business. He still had protective charms up around the window, though, so no unwanted visitors would be able to drop in. Owls only beyond this point.

"So I wrote out an example letter," said George, "Which you attach to the box when you send it back – this one is pretty basic, _Dear customer, thankyou for shopping at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. We hope you thoroughly enjoy your latest prank _or it could be _latest beauty product _or _Skiving Snackbox _or whatever it may be – _your order and change is in the box._ And then you sign your name, or whatever name you like – write Henry or Terrance if you like," he said, and he saw Aurelia smile. He knew she'd be more comfortable signing it from somebody else.

George went on. "There are some orders which you can't send – like if the owl is too small for a box, just send a letter back saying they need a bigger owl or a smaller order. Or if they don't send enough money, send them back the money with a stink bomb enclosed – they're in the top drawer – and tell them to pay the right amount."

Aurelia grinned and George knew it had been a good idea. She was perfect for the job.

He was about to open his mouth to explain how to deal with complaints, when an owl flew through the window and landed on the perch there (George had purchased a second perch so Clover didn't have to share with visitors).

The barn owl tilted its head at George, who exclaimed, "Aha, our first customer!"

He took the letter from the owl's beak and opened the seal, and laughed when he saw who it was from. Aurelia frowned and he said, "It's from Charlie – look."

The letter read, _Georgie boy! Glad to see your business is flourishing. Mum dropped by yesterday and told me you were doing mail orders, so I thought I'd invest in some of your brilliant fireworks for an upcoming dragon festival. I've enclosed fifteen galleons from myself and the dragon boys, send as many fireworks as that'll buy me. Thanks again, hope you're doing well – Charlie._

George said, "Now, you can check the price list, that'll buy him a fair few fireworks – if he doesn't specify, you get to pick and choose. You get to make the firework show," he said with a grin, making Aurelia laugh.

George froze, and he realised he'd heard a small sound from the back of her throat as she'd laughed. But he simply let it go, a private smile on his lips as he said, "Come on, I'll help you with this first one."

He lowered himself down the ladder into the expanded trunk and he pointed at the firework section as Aurelia watched from above. "Now, Charlie's a special customer so I'll probably give him a few extra," George called up, going on to explain which ones to choose for certain events, and showing Aurelia where the instructions booklets were in the drawer to put in the box, so the customers knew what to do with their product.

"That should do just fine," said George, smiling at Aurelia as they gave the barn owl a treat and gave it the package, which contained his fireworks, his instructions and a letter from George and Aurelia.

George watched the owl fly away before he turned to Aurelia and said, "So you'll be okay?"

She nodded, a small piece of hair falling from her ponytail. George reached over and gently tucked it behind her ear, watching the way her eyes followed his movements. Time seemed to go slowly when he was with her. It was… unusual.

He broke the soft silence with a half-smile, saying, "Thankyou for doing this, Aurelia."

She returned his smile, somewhat shyly and nodded, before George said he had to get downstairs to open the shop, leaving Aurelia to her tea, her books, her music and the owls.

* * *

Later on that day, George had left Verity in charge of the shop while he wandered down the street to Gringott's. Having taken Ginny's advice, George had owled Justin Finch-Fletchley and asked if he could see him sometime to have a chat about some financial advice.

Justin, being a muggle-born, had more knowledge than some in the wizarding world about finance and business. He was not the smartest person George knew but his parents had been bankers, so he had a firm grasp on finance issues and he was one of the most trustworthy advisors at Gringott's Bank.

George had asked if there was any chance he could meet up with him for half an hour or so just to see if there was any point in proceeding with the expansion of the business, and Justin had seemed more than a bit excited at the prospect of meeting Ron's older brother – and luckily, he had a last minute cancellation that day, just after lunch. George figured he should take the opportunity before Justin was all booked out again. Most people waited a few weeks to see him.

So George had left Aurelia in Verity's trusty hands – he'd also put up a disillusionment charm after Verity warned him that people might be able to see in the window where Aurelia was working. So now anybody who looked up there would see Katie Bell pottering around instead of Aurelia. (George was sure Katie wouldn't mind).

George wandered down the street, which was now clear of snow. He did like Diagon Alley when it was wintery but Merlin, it was so much more pleasant to go outside without several layers of clothing. Early March was one of George's favourite times of the year. Spring, lovely sky, not too much rain, perfect weather for Quidditch. George supposed he should organise a scratch match at the next family gathering.

The huge Gringott's building (which had been restored to its former glory after being torn apart by a dragon) loomed over Diagon Alley, the bright white stone almost difficult to look at in the midday sun. He wandered up to the doors and pushed them open, stepping inside onto the marble floors. The security guard at the door nodded at him politely. George was a regular visitor, being a business owner.

He walked up to the front of the corridor, trying to avoid eye contact with the goblins. They were a weird bunch, and though they were brilliantly clever, George still found that they got on his nerves more than a little. Gave him the creeps.

He waited patiently behind another wizard who was talking to the supervising goblin about opening an account – the goblin pointed him towards one of the desks on the left, saying he could enquire about a vault over there.

George then stepped up and said, "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Mister Weasley," said the supervising goblin a little stiffly. "How can I help you?"

"Yes, I had an appointment with Mister Finch-Fletchley," said George. "I was wondering where I might find him?"

The goblin's gnarled hands picked up a little bell on the desk, and it made the tiniest of sounds, but another younger-looking goblin came running. "Take Mister Weasley," said the supervising goblin, "To Mister Finch-Fletchley's office."

The other goblin nodded, and George thanked the supervisor before following the second away from the main entrance and towards a smaller corridor which curved around from the left. There were a number of ornate doors on the left side of the wall, and the goblin stopped at the sixth or seventh along and rapped on the door, before nodding at George and walking back the way they'd come.

The door opened, and George set eyes on Justin, who had been a rather scrawny boy the last time he'd seen him at Hogwarts. Now, Justin was nearly as tall as George and had a mop of dark brown hair, but his face had thinned out and he wasn't as unusual looking as he'd been in his younger years (even if his chin was a little too large in George's personal opinion).

"George," said Justin, with a large beaming smile. "Thanks for coming on such short notice."

George shook his hand and said, "Not at all. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice."

Justin laughed, and ushered George inside. "Come on in. Did you want some tea or coffee?"

"No, thankyou," said George, sitting himself down in an extremely comfortable antique-looking walnut chair. Justin's office was rather fancy and posh – George wasn't sure whether the furniture was supplied by Gringott's or by Justin (or Justin's extremely rich parents). The bookshelf was the same dark walnut and had a number of large leather books on the top few shelves about finances and prime wizarding real estate, the history of Gringott's and the wizarding market and also a number of files and account folders on the bottom few shelves. He was clearly very organised.

"So what can I help you with?" asked Justin, sitting himself down in his slightly larger-backed chair.

George explained his ideas as Justin listened intently, making small notes on a piece of parchment he had on the desk. George went through the ideas he had, talking about the property he'd seen in Hogsmeade, and when Justin asked how much money he had at hand, George handed him his financial reports and annual tax letter from the ministry from the year before.

Justin glanced at the finance reports and his eyebrows shot up. "Whoa," he said, making a small whistle as his eyes scanned the paper.

"What?" asked George.

Justin looked up from the papers and said, "George, why didn't you ever invest in a second shop before now? You've got enough money to get several more stores, and enough income to pay more than one employee."

"I've got one contracted employee," said George, "And I hired another today to run the mail order area of the business. I have other workers but they're casual workers."

"Right," said Justin. "Well, in any case, you've got more than enough money to invest in a second shop, and if you'd like to keep a bit more money in hand you can get a loan. What with your weekly income, you could afford to pay it back within a few years, if the business expands well enough, which it should."

"Loan sounds good," said George. "I did think that would be an option – we took out a loan on the first shop and it went well."

Justin laughed. "Well?" he repeated. "That's a word for it. Your business is one of the most successful in the British wizarding community, and what with the way you're going you could be looking at much bigger things."

George chuckled. "Let's just concentrate on Hogsmeade for now, shall we?"


	45. Chapter 45

Sorry this took so long! Had father's day and a few other things going on, this is a slightly shorter chapter than other recent ones but it's a bit of an in-betweener. I've also been writing future chapters so I'm working towards the end of the story. Though it could go for ever. Haha :) Thanks for all your marvelous reviews, I love you all so much and it makes me smile so much when I see a review notice in my emails. You're brilliant!

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty Five_

When George arrived back at the shop, he went upstairs to check up on Aurelia. He knew she'd be doing fine, but for some reason he just wanted to see her.

The sound of acoustic guitars gently washed over him as he wandered in the room, and Aurelia glanced up and gave him a small wave. She was sitting at the desk, still, her hands slightly ink-stained, with a few crumpled up pieces of paper in the bin. She was reading one of the Transfiguration theory books Hermione had lent to her. It made George wonder when she would start using magic again but it was probably a little further down the road.

"Hey," George said. "Everything going well?"

Aurelia nodded, and George wandered over to the perch to gently stroke Clover's grey feathers. She nibbled at his hand as he held it out to her, but it wasn't a vicious nibble. It sort of tickled. George had vivid memories of Errol biting his fingers – but he and Fred had tried tying him to a broomstick, so they probably deserved it.

He was trying to think of something interesting to say, when Aurelia stood and handed him a folded letter. When he opened it, it read,

_Dear Aurelia,_

_The Aurors have delivered a number of your belongings which were raided from the hideout. We hope you will be able to come to the Manor this afternoon to collect them and join us for dinner._

_Hoping you are well_

_Lucius and Narcissa_

"Did you want to go see them?" George asked, as he handed the letter back to her. Aurelia nodded, and passed George a pre-written note.

_There are some items I need,_ she had written. _I'd like to get them back. Would you like to come with me?_

George felt a little twinge of uncertainty at joining the Malfoys for dinner at the Manor, but he brushed it away and said, "Sure, if that's okay with your parents."

Aurelia smiled, and then to George's great surprise she reached up and kissed him on the cheek, before she turned around and returned to the desk. George's hand lifted up to his face, and his fingertips brushed the place her lips had touched. It tingled slightly. He frowned, and tried to ignore the feeling that his stomach had dropped through the floor as he left the study to go back downstairs.

* * *

Aurelia let out the breath she had been holding in as the door to the study closed shut. George hadn't said anything – but she'd heard the sharp intake of breath when she'd kissed his cheek. She'd turned away almost instantly to hide the blush which had appeared as soon as she had done it.

It wasn't like she had planned to do it. She just saw him, and felt like – well, felt like kissing him. But she wasn't allowed to kiss him. So the next best thing was a friendly kiss on the cheek. Aurelia sighed and brushed back the hair from her face. She was so tired of pretending she didn't like George.

But what was she supposed to do? She hadn't spent so much time with a boy since she was in high school, and even then she'd never had a proper boyfriend. She was fifteen when the war had finished, and that was when her two years of hell had begun. And she certainly hadn't had any boyfriends in the dungeon.

She was finding it difficult to not fall for George. But she didn't know what to do about it, and it wasn't like she could explain. He wasn't a boy, he was a man. Aurelia had tricked herself into thinking that she could be with him, until she'd seen him with that Janelle woman. That had been a reality check for her.

For the brief space of time when she had been alone in the tree house, with nothing but her tears, Aurelia had decided she was a silly girl with a snowball's chance in hell of being able to be with George. But then when he had found her, and sat next to her, and said she looked pretty – well, it only made her more confused again.

She couldn't just stop liking him. She'd tried and it didn't work. She didn't know anything about boys, though, and she didn't feel brave enough to ask. Who would she ask, anyway? Ginny, or Hermione? Certainly not Mrs Weasley. Perhaps Astoria might help her, but then Astoria might tell Draco, and who knows what Draco would think.

At that moment, the door opened and a stranger walked into the room.

* * *

George had asked Lee to go upstairs to get a new quill, so he had naturally headed for the study. When he opened the door, he wasn't expecting somebody to be inside, and he certainly didn't expect her to leap to her feet, fall over her chair and stumble to the floor. The owl sitting on the perch jumped too, but merely gave him a disdainful glare before returning to sleep.

Lee turned back to the girl, who was looking at him with scared, wide eyes, sitting on the floor where she had fallen. He held his hands up, and said, "Hey, whoa, it's okay."

He had never seen her before. She was strangely beautiful, her hair looked soft and pretty even though it was simply hanging loose over her shoulders. Lee noted how thick her eyelashes were, and thought he saw a scar on her cheek but her hair covered it. She was wearing a pair of pale blue denim jeans, and a woollen patterned sweater which looked too big for her small frame.

Lee gave her his most charming smile and held out his hand to her, and said, "Let me help you."

She stared at his hand for a moment, before tentatively taking it and letting him help her up. She brushed herself off, before taking a step back from him, and he noticed her hands were shaking.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," Lee began, but before he could say anymore, George rushed through the door.

"Oh, Merlin," he said, "Sorry, I forgot she was here. Lee, I should have said –"

Lee frowned at his friend, who looked almost as freaked out as the girl. He cleared his throat and said, "Not at all. I should be sorry, I scared – um, sorry, what was your name?"

She didn't respond, but only stared at him again before her eyes flicked back to George, who stepped towards her and said, "Lee, this is Aurelia. She – she's a new employee. Takes care of the mail orders."

"Awesome," said Lee, and he smiled at her again. "Nice to meet you, Aurelia. I'm Lee Jordan, I'm a friend of George's."

He held out his dark, calloused hand to shake hers, making sure that when she placed her hand in his he only shook it gently. George watched him carefully before he reached over and grabbed a few quills from the top drawer.

"Sorry about that," he heard George say quietly to the girl, before they left the room.

* * *

As they wandered back down the stairs, Lee said, "New girl seems nice." George frowned at him as Lee grinned cheekily.

"Don't you start, Lee," said George. "And for the record, if anybody asks you about her, she doesn't work here."

"Why would anybody ask me?" said Lee, confused.

George stopped halfway down the stairs, opened his mouth to speak but faltered, as though choosing the best way to explain. He then said, "She was found at the hideout of former Death Eaters. She was a prisoner. I've been asked to look after her as a favour to Harry and the Aurors."

Lee frowned. "That's horrible," he said. "Is that why she doesn't talk?"

George nodded. "Yeah. She'll get there eventually but for now she has to stay out of sight."

"As long as she can stay in mine," said Lee with a cheeky wink.

"No," said George firmly, as Lee grinned. "No, Jordan, I'm serious this time. Remember when I had that problem with the licensing laws and that lawyer Jessica had to come to the shop to help me sort out my case? And then I found out afterwards that all along you had been banging her?"

Lee laughed. "The look on your face was priceless."

He turned to go back to stocking the shelves, but stopped as he felt George's hand on his forearm, and there was a strange look on George's face that Lee couldn't say he'd ever seen before. George wouldn't even have had to said anything to translate what he was feeling, because Lee could tell there was something going on between George and the girl.

"She isn't going to be one of your girls," he said sternly.

Lee nodded, and he patted his tall friend on the shoulder. "Don't you worry about me, George. I won't bother her."

"Thanks, Lee," George said, before he paused and went on, saying, "Actually, I've got a number of a girl you might like."

Lee was suddenly alert again. "Is she nice?"

"Well, she's pretty," said George, as he took out his planner from under the counter and flicked through to the contacts section. "She's a manipulative bitch, though."

"So am I," grinned Lee. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine." He glanced down at the name on the card George handed to him, which said 'Janelle Scrimgeour'.


	46. Chapter 46

OMG YAY new chapter...s :D haha. Updated two at once, go me. A reward for you guys being so patient. Much love :) also thanks for the fantastical reviews, brilliant and heart-warming as usual. Can't thank you enough.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty Six_

It was later on that afternoon, just after the shop had shut that George headed over to the Burrow to collect Aurelia. She had decided that jeans and a sweater wouldn't impress either one of her parents, so she'd gone back to pick out what George assumed were some slightly more Malfoy-esque clothes.

George had changed out of his bright blue shirt (Verity had insisted that the rest of February they wear anything but pink, for God's sake no more pink, and George had consented) and put on a plain white shirt and grabbed his leather jacket from his wardrobe. It was still pretty cold but he wasn't going outside so he'd be okay.

When he arrived at the Burrow, he found Aurelia patiently waiting in the kitchen. She wore a slim, dark emerald dress which was definitely something Narcissa had bought her. It looked like silk, and it hung nicely on her frame without being too baggy at all, or too square. She wore a thin black belt on her waist, black stockings and a pair of ankle boots. When she saw George, she smiled and stood up, and reached for her jacket. George could see the scars casting tiny shadows on her arm from the late afternoon sun drifting through the window.

He felt like touching her skin. He didn't know where the sudden urge came from, but he suppressed it quickly – however, he was unable to forget the small kiss she'd given him earlier that day. He had to stop acting so immaturely. She was so young, and delicate. He couldn't afford to frighten her.

She pulled her long black coat on, which looked very much like a heavy cloak despite the fact it had sleeves, and George asked her if she was ready to go. When she nodded, he threw another handful of floo powder into the fire and they were whisked away to Malfoy Manor.

* * *

When they arrived, they stepped out of the fireplace onto the stone floor of the main entrance to the Manor, and a small chime rang throughout the room. A few moments later, George heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and he saw Draco appear from the right hand staircase.

He immediately rolled his eyes and sighed, and he said, "How did I know you would be wearing something stupid?"

George glanced to Aurelia before he realised Draco was talking to him. "Wait, what?" he said.

Draco walked towards him. "Your jacket," he said, "It won't do. Father will be home at any minute."

"I thought this was a casual dinner?" George said, slightly confused as Draco directed him up the stairs.

"Dinner at the Manor is never casual," replied Draco. "I won't have anything that will fit you but we can make some adjustments."

George glanced at Aurelia with a confused frown, but she simply smiled. She found it rather amusing.

Draco led them to a large room at the opposite end of the hall, and for a moment George thought it was some sort of study, because of all the cabinets around the room. He then realised it was one giant wardrobe.

His jaw dropped. "You have a separate room for clothes?"

Draco frowned at his surprise. "Don't look so shocked, George. We have over eighty rooms. We have to do something with the space."

He began to rummage around the left hand side of the room, and as he did so he muttered, "That said, we'll probably need another two rooms for clothes once Astoria moves in."

George laughed, and for a moment Draco looked at him strangely, before he smiled back. George supposed he wasn't used to telling jokes. But it was rather amusing.

Aurelia sat on the window seat and watched curiously as Draco threw jackets at George, telling him to try them on.

George was having trouble getting the jacket over his shoulders. "A little bit of a squeeze," he said, "Anything you can do about that, Draco?"

Draco waved his wand and muttered a spell George didn't hear, and a moment later the jacket slipped onto his back easily, like it had been his size all along. It was alarmingly comfortable. George brushed down the jacket, not daring to think about how much it cost, before he looked in a mirror. It was a sharp black, and made the black of his trousers look rather pathetic. It felt to George like it had money sewn into the fabric.

"That's – nice," he said.

"The bathroom tiles are nice," said Draco, staring at George. "That jacket, however, is fucking fantastic." He swore before he remembered Aurelia was there. He glanced at his sister and said a little sheepishly, "Sorry, Aurelia."

She waved it off, not at all alarmed by her brother's cursing. In fact, she smiled about it, as though it were funny. Draco smiled back at her before he said, "Will that do, George?"

"That will do," said George, giving a grin to the Malfoy heir. Draco put George's leather jacket on a hanger and placed it on a rack, before he led them back down the stairs.

"We're not eating in the main hall tonight," he said. "We're in the south wing dining room."

Two dining rooms, thought George. This place was insane.

Draco led them across the Manor and up another set of stairs, where the sound of soft classical music drifted down the corridor, and double doors were open to reveal a room with elegant white floorboards, a heavy and ornate mahogany table with matching chairs in the middle and flawlessly white walls. Large paintings with decorative frames hung on the walls, and candle-lit lamps stood to attention around the room.

Narcissa and Astoria were standing by the fireplace there, both with a glass of white wine in their hands. Astoria was her usual charming self, wearing a leopard-print chiffon shirt and black pencil skirt, and Narcissa wore a high-collared shirt and floaty grey skirt. She smiled adoringly at her daughter as soon as she walked in, and she put down her glass to embrace her. George smiled as Astoria then did the same, but she whispered something in Aurelia's ear which made her giggle. George liked the way they had gone back to being best friends almost instantly.

"Hello, George," said Narcissa, reaching over to kiss George on the cheek. George politely smiled and said, "Hey, Mrs. Malfoy. How are you?"

"Quite well," she responded. "I was glad when Aurelia told me you were coming. We haven't actually spent much time together just for the sake of spending time – it's been all business, recently."

George nodded. "Yeah, I really appreciate that you let me come around. This – your house is fantastic." He let out a small embarrassed laugh, but Narcissa didn't notice or pretended not to.

"Thankyou, George," she said, before moving over to talk to a house elf which was waiting politely by the door to tell his mistress something. George wondered what was for dinner…

In between the entrée of the most delicious cheese platter George had ever tasted and the main course of apple cranberry stuffed pork roast, Lucius – who had arrived not long after George and Aurelia, brought into the room a small leather bag, which he placed on the table in front of Aurelia. George and Lucius were sitting on either side of Aurelia – Lucius at the head of the table, of course.

"These are the items that the Ministry found at the hideout," he said, as Aurelia stared at the bag curiously. "They said that some things, like clothes, had to be kept for evidence. But these all belong to you."

With timid, pretty hands (George had to mentally slap himself again for thinking 'pretty') Aurelia opened up the bag carefully, as though she were expecting something to jump out at her – but of course, nothing did. George noticed how slim her wrists looked as she reached into the bag – the first thing she pulled out was a wand.

It appeared to George to be made of holly, and it seemed quite slim and small. It had small markings engraved very lightly all along the length, and it had two small rings about a third of the way along. As Aurelia held it, he saw how perfectly it fit into her palm, and a second later a soft glow floated from the end of the wand and drifted away, dissolving into the space above them like mist.

Aurelia watched it and George could see the way her eyes glowed, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She had her wand back.

As George glanced around the room, he saw the same soft smile on everybody's lips. It was more than beautiful to see Aurelia so comfortable, so calm, and so normal. She had her wand back. It was like it was a part of her that had been missing for so long.

She placed the wand down gently on the table, and reached back into the bag. The second item she pulled out was a small silver pocket watch. It was simple and elegant, and though it had been stuck in that stinking place for years the hands were still ticking. Aurelia smiled, and then glanced at her father. Lucius was not smiling, but a calm expression on his face showed he was pleased with the finding of the pocket watch. Perhaps it had been a gift from Lucius to Aurelia.

The third item was a small folded up photograph. George looked to see what it was, as he could see Aurelia staring at it with a strange expression. There he saw Aurelia, with slightly shorter hair, laughing and talking with her friends – one of them was Astoria, her hair tied in a long plait and her face slightly rounder, and a boy who George did not recognise. He smiled somewhat shyly at the camera, but did not say much or move much. Aurelia was the one who took up most of the attention – she couldn't stop moving and laughing, as though she were happier than she'd ever been. George had never seen her look so care free, her childish innocence almost like a ghost of the past.

Aurelia did not hand the photograph around – she simply folded it up and placed it beside the wand and the watch. Her hand reached into the bag one last time, and George could see a long silver chain following her hand as she pulled it out. When it finally emerged from the bag, there was a large, slightly rusted old silver key attached to the chain.

"What's that, Aurelia?" asked Narcissa, a curious frown tugging her eyebrows down.

Aurelia reached for a notepad sitting beside her and she scrawled a quick note, which read, _it's a good luck charm._

For some reason, George was under the impression she was not telling her mother the whole truth. The way she grasped the key with a tight fist as though she could never let it go, and the way she put the chain around her neck as soon as she gave the bag back to her father – George wondered if there was more to that key than met the eye.


	47. Chapter 47

Two chapters in one night. New record, maybe? Enjoy :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty Seven_

After the slightly uncalled for but utterly delectable affogato, George and Aurelia bid the Malfoys goodnight and they returned to the burrow. Lucius had disclosed to George earlier that he was pleased with how well the Burrow had served as a safe house, considering Aurelia had been kept there safely away from the public eye for so long – considering now that the public knew she was around somewhere, but had persisted in inquiring at the Manor instead of expanding their search.

George felt more than a bit pleased with himself when Lucius told him as much. He was pleased he had, at least in that way, earned the trust of the Malfoy patriarch.

As soon as they had stepped through to the Burrow, Aurelia fell onto the couch, pulling off her shoes and slumping against the cushions. George smiled as she sighed, reclining in a very lazy-looking way.

"You okay?" George asked, smiling. "Just tired?"

Aurelia nodded, and she shifted her legs to make room for George, who moved to sit beside her. She stared into the flames of the fireplace, and George watched as the clock moved, the hand with his face on it moving back to 'home'. The clock always thought that the Burrow was home for all the Weasleys – and indeed it was for George.

Fred's hand was permanently stuck on 'travelling'. It made George curious – he wondered why the clock thought that.

Out of the corner of his eye, George saw Aurelia holding the key in her palm, staring at it intently. He said to her, without turning to face her, "So what's so special about the key, then?"

Aurelia glanced up at him with a slightly surprised expression, but George only raised his eyebrows at her. "Come on, Aurelia," he said. "I know there's more to that key than you let on."

Aurelia gave a soft sigh as though she knew she couldn't fool George, and she reached for her notebook. She scrawled down for him, _of course it's special._

"How so?"

Unexpectedly, Aurelia stood up, her stockinged feet hardly making a sound on the floor as she did so. She held out her hand to George and pulled him to his feet, taking him up the stairs. George was a little unsure when led him outside, over to the shed – and Aurelia wrote him a note that said, _lock the door after I've gone in._

The key was always left under the pot plant beside the shed, as Arthur was likely to lose it otherwise – and as George picked it up, he said, "Are you sure, Aurelia?"

She simply nodded, and she gave him a delightful smile. He couldn't help but smile back, his lips moving of their own accord. She stepped inside the shed, and closed the door. George shrugged, and figuring he could always let her out after she was finished showing him whatever trick she had up her sleeve, he locked the door.

And he waited.

As was always the case, he could never be sure how much time passed – it felt like a really long time but for all he knew it could have been ten seconds. He waited, and waited, and it felt like an age. It felt like forever. It felt like –

Someone's hand on his shoulder.

George started, jumping up and spinning around, gasping for air as his heart began to hammer, his hand reaching for his wand – but then he saw Aurelia.

"W-what? Aurelia?" he said, trying to stop his voice from shaking. "Merlin, you – how did you…?"

His speechlessness made Aurelia smile. She simply held the key up, as though it answered all of his questions. George stared at it, and then he reached out and touched it – he expected a hum of magic to tingle against his fingertips, but no such thing happened. It was just an ordinary key.

"It's not magic," he said, but before he could say anymore, Aurelia shook her head. She took out her notepad, and she wrote out a slightly longer note. It read,

_It's magic, but it only reveals it's powers if you know the secret. You have to unlock the key first. Let me lock you in the shed – count to ten, and press the key against the door. It should open._

George frowned. He wasn't sure of the key, but he trusted Aurelia – and she was already holding out the chain towards him, looking at him expectantly. He rolled his eyes in defeat and said, "Fine, I'll try. But if this doesn't work, you have some explaining to do."

Aurelia smiled as though he was being silly, or childish even. George held the old silver key in his hand and he stepped inside the shed, turning to see her blonde hair in the dark night one last time before the door shut, and he heard the lock close.

George let out a deep breath, and he began to count. One. Two. Three.

He hesitated as he felt the key begin to grow warm. His eyebrows twitched but he remained focused – four. Five. Six. Seven – he thought it was imagination, but could he hear something? It sounded like… like voices. It was uncanny.

But he continued. Eight.

Nine.

The key now became icy cold, and George nearly dropped it – but he made himself hold it up to the door, and he thought the last number.

Ten.

The whispers, which had been growing in intensity, suddenly came to a rushing halt and the door swung open, and George couldn't see what was on the other side. It was blurred, and it was bright – he felt pressure on his back, pushing him forward, and he took a step forward – and he landed in the hallway.

Hallway?

George glanced around from where he sat awkwardly on the floor, his breaths uneven. He was inside the Burrow. He heard soft creaking as somebody wandered up the stairs, and a moment later Aurelia came around the corner, a very satisfied smile on her face.

"How – how does that work?" George asked, staring at the key in awe. "I've never seen anything like it."

Aurelia sat down beside him, and she began to write another note. This one took a while to write, as well, but it gave George a chance to get his breath back as he examined the key which was suddenly a much more curious object.

She finished writing, and she held out her notepad in one hand and her other hand, palm facing upwards in the other. George placed the key in her hand, and gently folded her fingers over and held her hand in his for a moment. He didn't look at her eyes. He simply stared at her hand, at her skin – before he remembered he had a note to read.

He took the notepad, and he read:

_Professor Snape gave it to me in the last year I was at Hogwarts. He told me his mother had given it to him. He didn't have anybody else to give it to. He said I would need it more than anybody, because I was more like him than anybody else he'd met. Snape was always unusually kind to me. I think he understood how I felt._

"How you felt," said George, mumbling aloud. "How did you feel?"

Aurelia did not make any facial expressions as she took the notebook back, and then wrote, _I was alone. My parents and brother were caught up trying to survive on the wrong side. Astoria was my only true friend, and her parents took her out of school in the last year. Snape understood how I felt trapped – he saw that I needed to escape._

George found in her words an understanding, a point of view he had never considered before. How had Aurelia managed to survive when her family was too busy being Death Eaters to look after her? Maybe her life before her kidnapping had not been very care free at all.

George looked at Aurelia and he said to her, voice unwavering and gentle, "You're safe now. You don't need that key anymore. But – if you feel better keeping it, then I won't be offended. But you don't need it. Okay?"

Aurelia stared at the floor for a few moments, before she nodded. George then stood up, and he helped her to her feet. It was time to sleep.


	48. Chapter 48

Sorry this took so long. I have craploads to do by next week, and I have end of year exams coming up. I have another few chapters to upload, but after that there will be a temporary hiatus on this story because I will have so much study to do. The timing is awful :( I'm so sorry. But I will not leave you unsatisfied!

Stay tuned, and I hope you like the next few chapters :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty Eight_

Wednesday came around and George found himself rather bored. The shop was very nearly completely empty, with only a few people wandering around. George felt tired. He'd been up late finishing the payroll, and had a rough night's sleep for no apparent reason. He wanted to sleep all day but the shop needed somebody to run it.

George glanced up the stairs, and felt a small smile on his lips. Aurelia was upstairs, doing the mail orders. The home delivery system was working alarmingly well. Of course, most of the customers were from Hogwarts, and so George was required to charm the boxes to look like sanitary products or perfumes to get into the school, as Filch was very adamant about keeping all Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes out of the school. But George knew better.

And he knew that when Aurelia was bored, she would practice charms. They were mostly small spells – she was practicing _accio _and _wingardium leviosa, _and George had watched her once – she was having trouble with it. Her magic was damaged. But he knew, with time and with practice, she would get better. But she would let anybody see her practicing magic, and George assumed it was because of her damaged pride. She was, after all, a Slytherin, and he knew that the Malfoys were extremely magically powerful wizards. She was trying to regain some scraps of her honour.

George wondered what it would feel like, to lose something that had been a part of your life forever. Then he remembered – he had lost Fred. He'd give up his magic to have Fred back.

He stared down at his feet, leaning against the counter and felt a hollow feeling in his stomach. It had been so long since he'd thought about Fred. It had been so long since he'd cried. When was the last time he looked in a mirror for so long he forgot where it was he was going? Aurelia had distracted him from his sorrow. He wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad thing.

But he wouldn't give up Aurelia. He loved her too much.

_You're in love,_ a voice in his head said, taunting.

"Fred," George murmured, the word barely audible, before he realised what he'd heard his brother say. No, wait, thought George, what? In love? He cared for her, that was all. Wasn't it?

_Your thoughts are messy George, _said Fred, and George could hear smiles in his voice.

"I'm not in love," George insisted, making sure there was nobody close enough to hear him as he responded to his brother's ghostly voice. "I am her guardian. I –"

"George?" Verity's voice called from the second floor stairs, leaning over the barrister, "Can you grab me another box of Biting Bags?"

George controlled his quaking voice. "Sure, I'll be right up," he called back, before ducking into the back room to get the supplies. He'd only just reached the shelf when he heard the bell on the desk chime – a customer needed assistance.

"Crap," George said with a sigh, before calling out, "Be right out!" as he grabbed the box of Biting Bags and strode back out to the shop. He dropped them behind the desk, knowing he could take them up to Verity later.

To his surprise, he found Justin Finch-Fletchley waiting for him, resting his elbow on the counter casually. "Hello, George," he said.

"Hey, Justin," George said, dusting his hand off before reaching over to shake his hand. "What brings you here?"

"I just had my friend in Hogsmeade send an owl," said Justin, waving a letter in his hand. "He's selling his property on the main street."

George raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It's double storey with a storeroom in the cellar, big front windows, thirty squared metres of floor space each level."

"That's – that's huge," said George. "Bigger than this place."

"I know," said Justin with a grin. "I know it's moving pretty fast but it's the perfect opportunity George. With an investment like this, Gringott's will never refuse you a loan. If you don't do it now…"

George was waiting for Justin to keep going but he had paused. George waited, and he raised his eyebrows again but he realised that Justin wasn't looking at him anymore. George glanced around and saw that Verity had come back downstairs and was there to grab the box of supplies. Justin's eyes followed her as she wandered away in dark red jeans and a plain black shirt, and when he finally snapped back to attention he found George giving him a sly grin.

"Um, I – what was I saying?" stammered Justin, standing up straight.

George laughed. "You were talking about a loan from Gringott's. Tell you what, Justin – if you can organise a loan, I'll try to organise getting you on a date with my assistant. Okay?"

Justin paused but a large grin split his face and he shook George's hand again. "Deal! Can I see you after you've finished work? About five thirty?"

"Perfect. See you then."

* * *

A little while later, George went upstairs to check on Aurelia. He had taken to going up almost every hour, making odd excuses. He wondered why he did that. He'd see her and say, "Just grabbing a quill', or 'needed to grab some knuts'. Pathetic. Why couldn't he just say he was going to see her because he _wanted _to see her?

Because he felt wrong. He needed an excuse to keep his conscience satisfied. He wasn't allowed to see her in any other way, so he was pretending not to. And he nearly had himself convinced.

He went to knock on the door but it was open ajar, and he saw Aurelia holding her wand with a timid hand. She stared at the open book on the desk, before she took a nervous breath and she pointed the wand at her glass, her mouth open and George could had sworn he saw her lips move, could have sworn she whispered something as a spark flew from her wand, and instead of filling with water as she had planned the glass shattered.

George jumped, and blinked, the exploding glass taking him by surprise. He realised that Aurelia had fallen off her chair, and he ran into the room, and said, "Aurelia, are you okay?"

She was on the ground, her hands over her face. A moment later, a red spot began to appear on her forearm, and George saw a shard of glass that had cut through the material of her shirt and must have pierced her skin.

"Oh, Aurelia," he said quietly, as he reached down to her and picked her up, careful to avoid any pieces of glass as he carried her out of the room and to the kitchen. He sat her on the bench, and opened the cupboards to find his medical supplies.

Aurelia was still shaking from the shock, and George gently lifted her sleeve to find the small piece of glass lodged in the soft flesh of the side of her arm. He said, "I'm gonna take this piece out now. Stay still, okay?"

She didn't respond, but George had already moved his two fingers to grasp the shard, and with careful hands he pulled it out, avoiding cutting her any further. When he had taken it out, he dabbed at the wound with a handkerchief and made sure there were no other pieces of glass there.

"Are there any other pieces you can feel?" George asked, but Aurelia shook her head. All the others had bounced off her or missed her. She was lucky.

George put some ointment on the small cut and wrapped it with a bandage. "There you go," he said, with a small half-smile. "You okay?"

Aurelia nodded, but George could see a small tear escape the corner of her eye and roll down the side of her nose. He reached up and wiped it away, and he said, "Aurelia, your recovery has been – astounding. You're doing things I never thought you'd be able to do, you're working and you're cooking, you're learning how to make potions – you're doing so well. Don't be so hard on yourself, okay? It'll come back. You just have to be patient."

She glanced up at him with shimmering eyes and he felt the desire to kiss her. The sensation shocked him, but he smothered it with a casual smile and he said, "Admittedly, patience doesn't come easily to Slytherins, but I'm sure you can manage."

He felt better when Aurelia rolled her eyes at his taunting joke, and George knew he had made it all okay, for now.

* * *

It was a little while after the shop had closed, and Aurelia had sent her last mail order and shut the window that she got out the charms book again. George had gone to Gringott's to see the financial advisor, and he had asked her to return to the Burrow and he'd meet her there. But Aurelia wanted to stay for a while. She knew Molly would be far too cautious to let her practice magic at the Burrow.

Though, considering what had happened before, Aurelia knew it was dangerous. Her magic had been untouched for years, and she knew she couldn't just expect to be able to do all the things she had once been able to do. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to try. Patience was nice, but perseverance was better.

She flipped back to the second chapter. It was basic charms, easy things. She'd already managed lifting and fetching objects, and she had attempted _aguamenti _but that had gone wrong, as evident from the bandage on her forearm. She scrunched her nose at the bandage but picked up her wand, and she turned to the next page.

Repairing charms.

Aurelia frowned at the title. _Reparo_, perhaps one of the most basic and easily mastered spells in the book. Hence it's placement in such an early chapter. But that was problematic, as she'd have to break something to be able to fix it…

Oh wait, she thought, turning to the rubbish bin. She had broken something.

She pictured the broken glass in her mind, and in little more than a whisper she said, "_Accio _broken glass."

As the pieces of glass gently floated over to the desk, Aurelia lifted her other hand and touched her lips. Speaking still felt strange, the hum of words in her throat and on her lips was an unusual feeling. She remembered how to scream, but speaking was not something she had done very much of in recent years. She had been reduced to little more than a creature, an animal by her captors. Being an individual, having a voice – that was almost daunting.

But she could speak.

She smiled at her own tiny victory as the pieces of glass landed on the desk in a small, sharp but rather interesting looking pile. She let out a breath, deflating her chest and letting her shoulders drop before taking another, lifting her wand and saying in a determined whisper, "_Reparo_".

It took a moment, but the pieces of glass began to shake and tremble, and a moment later they floated upwards again, and began to place themselves together from the bottom up, until every last shard was put back in place, and with one last final clink the glass was back together.

Aurelia let out a breath she was holding and she reached out and picked up the glass, staring at it. There were tiny cracks, like veins running through the glass. It was together, it was fixed, but it was still not perfect.

Aurelia placed it down gently and she let out a small giggle. Even if it wasn't perfect, it was close enough.


	49. Chapter 49

I love you all and you deserve this.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Forty Nine_

George lay down on the couch and sighed. It had been a long day, talking money with Justin at Gringott's, but George had managed to stay awake all throughout the impromptu family dinner, even though he'd fallen asleep with Teddy in his arms just before. He woke up again when Andromeda said she had to take Teddy home sometime, and George had, a little bashfully, handed him back and apologised, but Andromeda had waved the apology away and kissed him goodbye, saying she would see him again next week.

George blew a bit of hair from out of his eye, and he stared into the flames. He heard a creak from the other side of the room, and he turned to see Aurelia walked down the stairs, which were not nearly as crooked as they used to be when George lived here. It was probably a good thing.

As he looked at Aurelia, George thought of all the crooked things in his life that had straightened out since he'd known her. If she wasn't here, he wondered what he'd be doing. Probably still being lonely and useless. Aurelia had forced George to work hard, to provide, to do something worth doing. She'd brought him back from the brink, almost like repayment for saving her. George had noticed the difference – he wasn't skinny anymore, because he'd been eating with her all the time. He wasn't pale because he would take her outside to garden, or to play Quidditch, even though she preferred to watch with Hermione sitting beside her while the boys threw the old Quaffle around.

She moved carefully as always, like a little mouse. She smiled shyly at him, and sat down in the big armchair next to the fire – she only sat on the very edge, though, as always. Her hands were ink-stained from writing letters in the study, doing the mail orders for the shop, and the bandage was still on her arm from where the glass had shattered.

Aurelia was wearing one of Ginny's old dresses ('old' here having the meaning of 'last season'). The dress was made of a smooth material, but it had rich texture – in the soft light of the fireplace, it was a warm red, but in the sunlight it would change to a rich crimson. The edges were stitched with purple and gold. The old key hung around her necklace on a chain, catching the light of the fire. She wore cream stockings and brown leather shoes, and a warm red cardigan. It was painful for her, George knew, when she wore so many layers to cover her scars. There were a few scars on her neck and others on her face, which she tried to cover with cosmetics. She often did at the family dinners.

She still looked pretty to George.

She looked so beautiful, so delicate, and warm. George got the feeling that if he were to touch her skin she would be hot against his cold fingertips. George blinked and shied away from the thoughts. He wasn't allowed to think like that, and he kept having to tell himself. She was Aurelia. She was young and innocent and scarred and he wasn't allowed to think about her like that. He was just tired, and he wasn't thinking straight. That was it.

She smiled at him, her pale blonde hair falling across one cheek, shadows from the fire flickering on her porcelain-doll skin, making the tired lines of her face fade away. George looked away and to his surprise, felt a slight warmth in his cheeks that had nothing to do with the welcoming heat of the Burrow's huge fireplace. It was an uncomfortable warmth, one that made him scratch his hair and turn his head away in case she saw.

He had never felt so flustered around her before. It was odd. He'd never – well, to be honest, he'd never consciously noticed her beauty. Or how close they often were.

"How's everything going?" George asked, attempting to sound casual.

Aurelia nodded and smiled. She was good.

George smiled back, and felt it linger more than was totally necessary. He stared a little too long, too. He wasn't meaning to stare. He watched a small frown appear on her face, and her head tilted to the side. She wasn't sure what he was doing.

George looked away again. He had to stop. She would notice that he was being a creeper. He didn't know why he was acting like this. Neither did he, actually – there was no good reason for his inappropriate thoughts. She was just a girl, somebody he was looking after, somebody who had, like him, had been in pain. There wasn't anything else to it. Even though she gave him kisses on the cheek, and he loved hugging her hello, goodbye, pretty much at any chance he could. It would have helped if she wasn't annoyingly beautiful, or sweet, or kind-hearted. There was so much of her that George was attracted to. She seemed perfect in almost every way.

George saw Aurelia lean a little, as though to catch his eye. He looked at her, and she motioned with her hands – pointing to him, and then a thumbs up. With a slightly raised eyebrow. Was he okay?

George smiled a little. "Yeah. I'm okay." Aurelia nodded and turned to look at the fireplace again.

He found himself staring at her more a few times, and having to wrench his eyes away from her. She caught his eye when he did it again, and he managed a pathetic smile, delighted to see that she smiled in return, her shoulders lifting slightly as though she were laughing at him.

"Are you tired, Aurelia?" George asked. It was nearly midnight. He was only staying because the shop was already shut and he couldn't be bothered going back home. He knew that they had rebuilt his old room for him to stay in, but it only had one bed in it now. That just wasn't right. He might as well stay here, and sleep on the couch.

Aurelia shook her head, then paused, and nodded. She was tired.

"Can't sleep?"

She shook her head again. She managed a small smile, but it faded. She frowned at George curiously for a moment, before she stood up and picked up a notepad from the shelf above the fireplace. Molly had taken to leaving them everywhere whenever she needed it. An overkill, as always, but as always the overkill was useful at all times.

She sat herself down next to George and he felt his eyelids lowering as he inhaled the smell of her hair. It took a moment but he shook himself out of it, mentally slapped himself and watched her scribble something down on the notepad. How could somebody scribble yet be so neat?

She handed the notepad to George. It read:

_I've been having nightmares._

George frowned. "Nightmares? What sort of nightmares?"

A tiny corner of Aurelia's lip twitched, and George knew she was trying to not look scared. She probably hadn't told anybody else about this. George could tell when she was being confidential. She didn't have to add it in as a side note – he just knew.

She took the notepad from him again, her fingertips brushing his. George resisted flinching. Aurelia was warm. Her skin felt hot, as he knew it would. He realised that he always was wanting to be close to her – whenever he hugged her goodbye, he wished he could hold on for longer. Whenever he helped her do the housework or when he was teaching her charms, he would be aching for a tiny brush of skin. He'd never noticed before but now it felt like it was burning up inside of him, dying to get out.

Aurelia handed the notepad back to him, and it said quite simply:

_The sort that you can't wake up from._

George knew the ones. Feeling like you can't escape from the dream itself – those were the worst kind. He only got them every now and then, though – seeing a green flash of light that seemed to last forever, then wake up sweating and panting, realising it was time to get out of bed, no time left to recover.

George glanced at her, and he said, "Have you been sleeping at all?"

She watched him for a moment, with her wonderful vanilla eyes, before looking away and shaking her head. The lines of her face showed now she was closer to him.

George frowned. "I thought you were sleeping alright. I mean, since you'd stopped sleeping at mine."

After another heavy pause, she shook her head again. She had turned away from him, and as George shifted to face her, he could see why – she was blushing.

Blushing?

"Hey, Aurelia, it's alright. You can talk to me about this." George tried to catch her eye. "You don't need to be ashamed or anything. I don't think you're weak."

She still wouldn't look at him. She scratched at her leg – George guessed there were scars there. He knew how itchy they could get.

"Why are you having nightmares again?" George asked, redirecting his concentration. "What changed?"

She only glanced at him for a moment, before she reached out slowly to take the notepad from him. It only took a moment, however, for George to realise what had changed.

"You stopped sleeping at my place," he said in a voice quietened by his surprise. He stared at her. "It's me, isn't it? I stop the nightmares."

Another blush crept beneath the skin of her cheeks as Aurelia gave a small nod.

Without hesitating, George asked her, "Did you want me to sleep outside your room tonight?"

Aurelia shook her head a little frantically, and she took the notepad and wrote hurriedly, _No, but could you just stay here tonight?_

"Stay here, on the couch?" George asked, and the corner of his mouth curved in a half smile. "Sure. I can do that for you."

Aurelia smiled gratefully. She took back the notepad and wrote, _thank you._

"Anytime."

She stood up, and walked over to the shelf to put the notepad back. George stood up as well. "I'll stay here all night, so if you need me just wake me up, okay?"

Aurelia let a tiny smile show before she stepped towards his open arms, wrapping her own lithe arms around his torso for what was _meant_ to be a quick goodnight hug. George's arms enveloped her small figure, held her close, and the contact was almost too much to bear. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her hair. He knew the embrace had lasted too long, but she wasn't letting go either and had made no attempt to do so.

_Watch it, Georgie._

Fred's voice only made the pounding pulse in his ears seem louder than ever. His nose and lips brushed against her light hair, and he inhaled her rich, leafy scent. Stop it, George's mind screamed, stop whatever you're doing. You're going to ruin everything – _again_. But his body seemed to act on its own accord, and he let his fingers trace small circles against her clothes. He listened to her breathing. His heart was hammering.

Her hands began to retract from around him, and George's eyes snapped open as he suddenly realised what he'd been doing. He began to loosen his own hold on Aurelia, his careful hands moving away from her warm body, and he resisted the urge to do anything stupid. She looked up at him, and as gently as was possible, George leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, holding her neck in his hand gently as he always did.

It was just the same as always, but then he felt her own hands take a hold of the folds of his jacket. His heart skipped a beat as Aurelia reached up on her toes, and she kissed him on the cheek.

He knew, he _knew_ that she had been trying to give him a friendly goodnight kiss, but she was shaking so much she'd nearly missed and the corner of her lips touched the corner of his. Not to mention that after she had brushed her lips against his skin, she didn't move away, and George could feel her breath on his skin, on his lips. Hands still on her waist, he clenched onto her dress and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself if she didn't move.

With shaky breaths, Aurelia stared up into George's emerald eyes. She didn't look frightened, for all of the nervous energy she was emitting. George made himself stay still. He dare not move, because her lips were so close to his that he felt if he did move, he would kiss her, and she might run away.

But in a movement that felt very deliberate, Aurelia closed the gap and pressed her lips to his.

George gasped as she kissed him, and he pulled her closer almost as an immediate reaction, wrapping his arms around her again. She was trembling but she pulled herself closer, and as George's lips moved against hers she repeated the action and within a second they were locked together, sharing a kiss that George had only imagined in his wildest dreams.

She was so soft, so gentle. He wanted to crush his lips against hers and run his hands through her hair and crush her in his arms to get her that tiny bit closer – but he knew he had to be gentle. She was as delicate as a porcelain doll.

And as George felt a small sound escape from the back of his throat, Aurelia's eyes snapped open and she broke away suddenly, and stared at him with wide eyes.

Then, something very strange happened.

She whispered, "I'm sorry."

Slipping from his arms, she ran back up the stairs and out of sight.

He touched his fingertips to his lips, the tingling feeling fading all too quickly for his liking.

And then, after another second, he realised what had happened.

Aurelia had kissed him.

Aurelia had _spoken_.


	50. Chapter 50

It's been a while, hey? :) Sorry it took so long, but my exams are finally over and high school is finally finished and I'm getting my mojo back. Back in the game! Hope you like it :) thanks for reading!

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter 50_

George paused for a moment, and stared at the staircase. He decided then that he wasn't going to let her run away again, and he wasn't going to go home and pretend nothing had happened.

This was something too good to let slip away, he thought, and stopped holding back. He dashed towards the stairs, running faster than he could remember, stumbling as he went. He ran towards Charlie's old room, trying not to wake anybody up as he went, but in too much of a hurry to go slowly.

He knocked on the door and waited, and he knew she was in there because he saw shadows moving beneath the door. "Aurelia," he hissed, "Let me in." George pressed his hand to the door, and he swore he could hear her breathing. Maybe it was his imagination. But he'd be damned before she ran away from him again – she wasn't going to use that bastard key of hers before he could speak with her again.

The door suddenly opened and George nearly fell in, but it opened only a little and he saw her wide eyes staring at him. George opened it further, wide enough for him to move inside. He shut the door behind him and turned to look at Aurelia, who had moved away and was staring at the floor. He reached down and took her hand in his and he said, unable to contain his excitement, "You can talk?"

Aurelia took a shaky breath and George watched as she opened her lips and she said, "Yes, but please don't tell –"

Her voice was just as George imagined it would be. It was soft, and pretty – it was a little strained from her anxiety, but her words were smooth and gentle, perfectly pronounced, and her voice sounded like leaves on the wind, it sounded like a phoenix song, it sounded like her cursive handwriting. He couldn't describe it.

"Oh, you can talk!" George exclaimed in an excited whisper as he gathered her up in his long arms, and picked her up, spinning them both around the room. "You've got a voice, you're – you're _talking_!"

He listened to her soft laugh as she whispered, "George, let me go!"

George put her down, but didn't let her go. He kept his arms around her as he looked down, brushing the hair back from her face and he said in hushed words, "Say – say my name again."

Aurelia gave a small smile before she said, "George."

George sighed elatedly and pressed his forehead to hers. "Again."

"George."

He couldn't help it. He felt the warmth rush through him and his skin raised in goosebumps, and George said, "Aurelia – this is amazing. I –"

He was about to tell her he wanted to kiss her again, but she cut him off for the first time ever. "George, you can't tell anybody," she whispered, her eyes suddenly wide with fear again. "If – if they know, they – they will make me speak at the hearing."

George's smile faded as he stroked her hair. "It's okay, Aurelia."

"I don't want to, I can't, I can't do it," she said, voice a frightened whisper, stumbling over the words as her lips trembled.

Before he knew what he was doing, George pulled her chin up and he pressed his lips to hers again, silencing her. She went rigid, frozen for a second before she melted into his arms, her hands moving to hold his face as George leaned over her, kissing her, revelling in the feeling of her soft lips and the sound of her soft sighs.

George let his hands wrap around her waist, and he loved the way her body felt against his. It was like they were two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together. George had never felt that way before. He had never thought he would feel so elated about making her shut up, now that he knew she could talk.

He felt her pull away, and he let his hold ease as she moved away. George realised she had been standing on her toes to kiss him. He smiled, and pressed his lips to her hair, inhaling the smell of her jasmine-scented shampoo.

"George?" Aurelia whispered.

"Yes?"

"I – I haven't kissed anybody for – for years."

George frowned, before he pulled away a little to look at her. Of course, he thought, she would have been only fifteen when they took her away. He stared at her tangled eyelashes as she blinked, and he said quietly, "Would you rather I didn't?"

She stared up at him and said quickly, "No, no – I just – feel a bit nervous." Her words were somewhat stammered but she was speaking nonetheless.

George smiled. "That's okay," he whispered, moving forward to kiss her again before he paused.

Aurelia swallowed nervously, waiting for him to do something, but George was having a moment of realisation. Merlin, he thought, Aurelia is at least three and a half younger than me.

"When's your birthday, Aurelia?" he asked, voice wavering the slightest.

"October."

Make that four years.

George began to move his hands from her sides, and he said, "You – you're only seventeen. I shouldn't be – doing this."

His hand had nearly left her when he felt her grip his forearm and she said, "Don't go."

George's eyes met with hers and he saw them shimmer with a sort of desperation he had never seen there before. Her breath was shaking as she pulled herself back to him and she whispered into his chest, "Please stay."

He knew he would never be able to leave her if she kept doing that to him. He let out a groan and wrapped his arms around her again and said, "I can't. This is – this isn't good of me to do this."

"Stay," she said again, not bothering to elaborate.

He took a small breath and exhaled slowly, knowing he couldn't leave even if he wanted to, as his lips brushed against her temple and her cheek. George felt her breath on his skin as he bumped his nose against hers. She was waiting for him to kiss her, but George felt as though he had to be careful. He swallowed his nervousness, and he said, their lips brushing, "I don't want to move too fast, but if you want me here, I'll stay."

He gently placed one last, lingering kiss on her lips, holding her carefully and closely as he let his worries wash away with every breath, every moment his lips were on hers. He felt so clear, so light. Like he'd been burdened before, but was now free.

When George finally moved away, smiling and giving her a quick kiss at the corner of her lips, he said, "Will you be uncomfortable with me applying your medicine now?"

Aurelia stared down, not able to look at him as she blushed. George tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she said, shakily, "N-no."

George nodded. Aurelia asked him in her new-found voice to turn around as she got into her pyjamas. She frowned when George didn't do so immediately, but after he gave her a cheeky grin she simply rolled her eyes and he turned around.

He waited, being a gentleman and not sneaking any peeks whatsoever. He was aching to touch her skin but he knew that she was still delicate and he had to treat her as such. She wasn't just any girl.

"Okay."

George turned, and saw she was wearing an baggy t-shirt and plain blue cotton pyjama pants. He looked at the shirt with a large G on the front and he said, "Hey, that's my old shirt!"

Aurelia smiled shyly. Even if she was able to talk, George realised she probably didn't feel comfortable talking all the time. So instead of waiting for a response, George grinned. "Glad to see it's still useful." He reached over to grab the jar of medicine as Aurelia sat down on the bed, and lifted the back of the shirt up to her shoulders.

George moved behind her, and he began to apply her medicine. Her skin felt so warm beneath his fingertips, and he could see the amount of progress her wounds had made – the scars and scabs were nearly healed over, even if it was a little bit rough it was a lot less damaged than it was at the start.

Aren't we all, thought George, as he gently brushed her hair with his nose, kissing her behind her ear as he whispered her goodnight, snaked his arms around her waist and lay down with her on the small bed, holding her close as they drifted into the most peaceful, safe sleep either one of them had experienced in the last few months.


	51. Chapter 51

Some more lighthearted stuff before anything really heavy starts again. Thanks for reading :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Fifty One_

When George woke up the next morning, it took him a moment to remember who was lying next to him, sleeping in his arms. Throughout the night her legs had folded beneath her, and George's body had curled around her, his arm draped over her middle as he held her close. He brushed his nose against her soft hair, lips softly kissing skin, and he watched her body rise and fall with calm, even breathing.

His fingertip traced a scar on her forearm as he watched her sleeping. He couldn't believe how much of a difference she had made in his life. He never thought he'd fall in love with her, but George wasn't going to fight it. Besides, even if she was younger, Aurelia would eighteen soon. He could smother the feelings of guilt that made his morals raise their eyebrows.

George sighed. There was so much they had to get through – the hearing, the healing, learning magic again. But in this one moment he could just lie there, holding her close to him and pretend that there wasn't anything wrong, that they were just normal people.

It was sort of comforting.

He wasn't sure how long he had been lying there, awake but not moving. He became alert again when he felt Aurelia shift, her arm move slightly and he could hear a tired yawn as her eyes slowly opened. She blinked a few times, and then she looked over her shoulder at him as though to make sure he was still there.

He smiled at her, and said, "Good morning, Aurelia."

She didn't reply, but simply smiled back, turned over and wriggled further into his arms. He chuckled as she did so, her legs tangling with his and her head resting on his chest as he held her. She sighed happily, and George gently stroked her hair and they simply rested together, basking in their togetherness.

It must have been about ten minutes later when Aurelia spoke, and what she said was not what George was expecting to hear.

She said, in her marvellously soft voice, "Are we going to tell anybody?"

George blinked. He hadn't even thought about that. Who would he tell? He didn't exactly feel comfortable telling the Malfoys just yet, because they might not approve of George being her guardian as well as being romantically involved with their daughter. Molly was also out of the question, because she would tell every living soul on the planet about it.

"I'm not sure," was all George could think of to say. "Whoever you feel comfortable telling, I suppose."

Aurelia nodded. "Draco."

"Draco?" George cringed. "Are you sure that he'll approve?"

"He will," was all she said, and George had to accept that as an answer.

He closed his eyes. "Okay," he said. "How about – Verity?"

Aurelia nodded. Verity should know.

"Ginny?"

Aurelia nodded again.

"Harry?"

Aurelia hesitated – and shook her head.

George laughed. "Why not Harry?"

"He's working the trial," said Aurelia. "He might not – look at me the same."

"He already thinks of you as family," George assured her, and then said, "I just think it's unfair to make Ginny keep a secret like that from Harry, and same goes for Hermione and Ron. If you tell one, you should tell both. And you can't just let the girls in the loop, that's mean on the boys!"

Aurelia sighed in an exasperated way, making George smile again. "Fine," she said. "Then I don't know."

"Well, I think we shouldn't be too secretive about it," he said quietly. "I think we should tell Draco and Verity, because they deserve to know – but I think everybody else should have to figure it out for themselves. How about that?"

Aurelia nodded, and she smiled up at George. He pressed his lips to her cheek, and he said, "We wait until you're ready, until the trial is over maybe?"

"Maybe," she said.

It was later on that day that George and Aurelia returned to the shop. George saw Molly raise an eyebrow slightly at him when she learned he had stayed at the Burrow last night, but he simply said that he had been too tired to go home and she was happy with that.

George got to working pretty much straight away, potion-making in the store room as Verity worked the counter. It wasn't too busy on a Thursday morning. He asked Aurelia to send Draco a letter, asking him to come around for lunch, so they could tell Draco and Verity at the same time. Aurelia was nervous, that much was obvious to George – but it wasn't a scared nervous, it was an excited nervous. Draco would hear her speak for the first time in years.

George was impressed at how keen Aurelia was to tell her brother, and Verity. He hadn't noticed but the two girls had become really close lately, taking lunch breaks together and playing cards and Wizard's chess at their lunch breaks, Aurelia quietly listening to Verity rattle on about boys or Quidditch or fashion or something. George smiled when he thought of Aurelia rattling on about things like that with her friends. It was such a naïve and normal thing to do.

Lunch came around, and Aurelia finished the last few packages and sent them out before going to the kitchen and making herself a cup of tea. George came up a few minutes after, and Draco arrived by floo at almost the same time.

Aurelia smiled wide when she saw her brother, and the warmth of her embrace was enough to make Draco smile, too. He said, "Wow, you're energetic today, Aurelia."

Aurelia simply glanced at George over her brother's shoulder with a knowing look in her eyes, and George winked. They had this all planned out.

George began to get the food out and put it on the table. Lunch was just sandwiches today – ham and cheese and tomato sauce was one of George's personal favourites, but Aurelia liked salad and chicken while Verity had called dibs on the leftover beef. Draco helped himself to the various foodstuffs, and they were all making sandwiches when Verity wandered in.

"Morning, everybody," she said. "Nice to see you waited, George."

"Waited?" George scoffed. "Nay, I have already made your sandwich, milady."

"Oh, you're sweet," Verity said with a smile. They sat down and began to eat, three of them chatting away casually while Aurelia ate away with a small smile the whole time. George knew she was itching to tell them.

After they had finished eating, George quickly cleared the mess and plates with a wave of his wand, and said, "Thanks for coming around today, Draco."

"Not at all," he replied. "It's good to see everyone, you know, working hard." All three employees of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes were amused by this notion of 'working hard'.

George went on, "We actually asked you here because – well, Aurelia has something she wanted to tell you."

Both Verity and Draco turned to face Aurelia, expecting her to whip out her notebook and scribble down a message for them. George watched their faces closely as he waited for Aurelia to speak.

She licked her dry lips, and then she said, "I – wanted to tell you that I can speak."

George almost laughed aloud at their faces. Verity's jaw dropped and the glass of water was frozen halfway to her lips. Draco's eyes went wide, wider than George had ever seen, and then he leapt out of his seat and collected Aurelia in his arms, and cried out, "Oh, Aurelia! You can speak!"

Aurelia laughed and Verity stood to hug her tightly, and to George's surprise a small tear slipped from Verity's eye – but she quickly wiped it away and said, "That's amazing, Aurelia."

"Thanks," she said, as Draco pressed an earnest kiss to her forehead.

"Have you told mother and father yet?" Draco asked, as they all sat back down.

Aurelia shook her head. "Only you three." She glanced at George and then she said, voice only slightly less confident than before, "And – there's something else."

George looked back at her soft eyes and he saw she was nervous. He took her hand in his, and squeezed gently – little did he know, that was all it took for Verity to figure it out. She cried out an incoherent sound, and pointed at them. "You!" was all she managed, before Draco picked up on what was going on.

"You two?" he said, his elated expression becoming a slight frown of concern.

Aurelia said quickly, "Draco, please – I need George."

The words hit George in a place he didn't think they would. Nobody had said that for a long time. The last person who had said that to George was Fred. Nobody had needed George since then.

Aurelia smiled softly at her big brother and said, "You know he'll take care of me."

Draco nodded. "I know, he already does. Better than anybody." He glanced at George. "It's just – I don't know what our parents will say. And what with the trial going on –"

"We're not going to make any big public announcements or anything," said George. "We just wanted you two to know because – well, you deserve to know. But we'd like to keep a low profile."

Verity smiled, her eyes sparkling with a mad happiness George hadn't seen there for a long time. "Well, hit me with a spoon and call me Merlin," she said, "I don't care how or why this happened, all I know is that you are two of my favourite people and I can't think of anything better. You deserve happiness," she said, bringing a beautiful smile to Aurelia's lips. "Oh, stop it!" Verity cried. "You're going to make me all sentimental."

George laughed. "Verity, sentimental? It must be the end of the world."


	52. Chapter 52

I'm so sorry this took so long! I had this waiting to be finished and I just couldn't make it work. I am so bad at writing when it comes to Christmas. Dreadfully sorry. I hope you're all having a brilliant holiday season :) best wishes from me to make up for how late this update is. Much love :D and if you're a chiodos fan, you'll notice my little song title slip... It was accidental but I made myself laugh. :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Fifty Two_

It was the little things that made him wonder.

Like the way she blew the hair away from her face when she couldn't be bothered raising a hand to tuck it behind her ear. The way her fingertip ran up and down the spine of the book she was reading, the way her eyes flicked across the words. The way her soft eyes glittered when they caught the lamplight. They had been to the healers a while back and had her eyes fixed so she could read without squinting now, as she'd blatantly refused to wear glasses. That was cute.

He loved the way she sat, one leg underneath her and the other crossed over, bare feet on the arm chair in the study, in a daggy old sweater as she warmed herself with literature, and every now and then a hot cup of tea. He loved the way she'd put a record on while she read, because he knew she liked the background noise. Silence was discomforting to her, and he was okay with that. He'd make as much noise as she wanted, he'd buy all the records in the world from every backwards second hand shop he could find, if it made her happy.

He could never get over the silky, soft curtain of hair which fell down her neck, tumbling down her shoulders in a soft waterfall of shimmering blonde. He loved the way her eyelashes tangled together, all dark and pretty even when she wasn't wearing makeup. He liked the soft glow of her pale skin, he liked it better without powder on her skin because he could see the soft pores, he could trace his fingers across the scars as though he were trying to ease away the pain and she would simply smile. It didn't even bother her anymore.

And now he walked up behind her, and placed a new, hot mug of tea for her on the desk for her, and he peered over her shoulder at what she was reading, but not really paying attention to the words on the page. He was more focused on the hint of a smile that was tugging at her pretty lips as she acknowledged his presence.

"Shouldn't you be working?" she asked in her soft words, her beautiful words.

"Probably," he murmured as he pressed his nose into her hair, inhaling the smell of vanilla shampoo. He heard a small breathy laugh as he did so, and he couldn't help but smile against her hair as his arms rested on her shoulders.

It had been over a month since their first kiss. They managed to remain discreet about their relationship – of course everybody knew that George was closer to Aurelia than anybody, but hardly anybody entertained the thought that they were in a romantic relationship. When they were at the Burrow, nobody would look twice if George wrapped his arm around Aurelia, or asked them where they were going when they went for a walk. Nobody seemed to mind that George would stay in her room every now and then.

Of course, the Malfoys knew nothing of this, but Aurelia was smart enough to know that if her parents knew about it they'd almost certainly take her back home to the manor.

"It's not that they don't like you, George," she had explained to him when he asked her about it. "It's just – they just got me back. I don't know if they're ready to let me go so soon."

Ginny had asked George about it, because unlike his brothers, she was actually quite receptive and she could see the way he looked at Aurelia, and she saw the way George would smile as he watched her walk by. Ginny had interrogated George, and he had simply told her that he cared deeply for Aurelia. She seemed to be satisfied with that response.

"I wouldn't mind telling her," George had admitted to Aurelia and Verity at lunch one day. "Only problem is that her mouth is nearly as big as mum's. She couldn't not gossip about it."

The only other people who was aware of the relationship were Lee and Oliver. They had come to the conclusion all on their own after George declined their invitations to go on pub-crawls three times in a row. Oliver and Lee had both met Aurelia when they had helped shifting stock, and they had told George in an alarmingly polite and thoughtful way that they could respect the relationship if it was really important to George.

George was so surprised at their sincerity he had burst out laughing, but he had then thanked them and told them he was truly grateful.

"For god's sake, don't tell my mother," he had said with a smile.

Astoria realised what was happening when she once came to the shop to see Aurelia, but she had come in from the street and up the stairs so they hadn't heard her coming, and she had walked in on Aurelia and George sharing a kiss in the kitchen.

Of course Astoria was elated, even more so when Aurelia had said in a hushed voice, "Don't you know how to knock!" thus revealing the fact that Aurelia could also speak.

Considering they spent so much of their time around so many different people, George was alarmed they had managed to keep it so quiet at all. But Aurelia wasn't prepared to tell her parents until after the trial at least. She didn't need the extra stress from the newspapers, either. She couldn't go to the Auror's office without being swarmed, and when she had gone to visit her parents a week ago she had found a huge pile of letters, all of them requests for interviews, offering astounding amounts of galleons.

George had felt his neck tighten when he received a letter from Janelle, apologising and asking for a personal interview. He had sent back a rather rude reply, after which she didn't contact again.

All in all, their lives were pretty hectic. But George didn't mind it at all. To be perfectly simple, he hadn't spent all that much time out and about when Aurelia wasn't there. He'd spent most of his time moping. But now that she was here, being with her was his favourite place to be, and most of the time she was with him at the flat, or with him at the Burrow.

George wrapped his arms gently around her shoulders, a fingertip tracing the line of her collarbone as he said quietly, "Having an okay day?"

Aurelia nodded slightly. "It's quiet."

He didn't mind that her replied were often short and succinct. What he liked most of all was the fact she was so possessive of George. He had told her off for disliking Katie simply because she was a friend who happened to not be a guy. Aurelia had apologised instantly, saying she simply wasn't used to sharing because she was a Slytherin and because she'd never had a boyfriend.

And George had smiled so wide at the word 'boyfriend' he'd kissed her.

"How are you?" she asked, placing her finger in between the pages of her book as she closed it to speak with him.

"It's going okay," he replied. "We had a bit of a morning rush, and I expect you'll be getting some last minute orders tonight."

Aurelia simply had to look up at George with a slight frown to ask what on earth he was talking about. George shrugged and said, "It's April Fool's day tomorrow."

Aurelia was silent for a moment before she grasped onto George's arm and she said with a gasp, "It's your birthday!"

George tried to smile, but Aurelia saw a flicker of sadness or anxiety, or maybe both, pass across his face. Her excited smile faded as she turned around in her seat to stare at him properly, and she asked quietly, "What's wrong?"

George hesitated, which was his next mistake. He should have instantly replied as he flashed a quick smile and said, "Nothing, it's fine." But as soon as he had paused for a breath, Aurelia knew he was lying.

"Don't lie."

Feeling a little tight in his chest, George said, "Fine. I don't like my birthday because it's Fred's birthday too."

And then Aurelia hesitated. It only took one shimmer of sympathy from her pale eyes for George to know she didn't know what to say, so he simply kissed her forehead and said, "Don't work too hard," before he left the room.


	53. Chapter 53

Wow, I am so sorry this took so long! As I said before I am lousy at updating at Christmas. But here it is, and I left it at an annoying cliffhanger because the chapter was too long so there is about 500 words deposited for chapter fifty four. Get excited! It'll be up in a jiffy :) what is a jiffy? Never mind... If you've gotten this far, thanks so much for reading! And... well done. Haha. This is a long story. Please let me know what you think :)

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Fifty Three_

After George had gone back to work, Aurelia was determined to do something, anything, to make his birthday a good one. Only problem was that she had no idea what it was like to lose somebody that close. She knew what it was like to lose everything, though. Fred had been George's everything. Maybe she could work something out.

George was right, there were more than a few last minute orders for April Fool's day. It was annoying to Aurelia that she'd forgotten about his birthday and now it was too late to go shopping for a present. She growled at the owls coming in the window, giving them treats even though they were holding her up. They didn't really seem to care that much.

Then, as she looked at Clover snoozing quietly on her perch, Aurelia had an idea. She called the grey owl over, who calmly obliged to sitting at the desk and munching on owl treats as Aurelia wrote a quick letter.

_Verity,_

_Can I see you after work? I need to go shopping for a birthday present for George and I need your help. Please bring a bottle of Wonderwitch Quick Rinse hair dye, too._

_Aurelia_

She sent Clover downstairs for the shortest mail delivery ever, and waited for a response which came not two minutes later.

It read:

_Sounds groovy, see you after work. – V_

* * *

"Wow," said Verity, raising her eyebrows at the girl in front of her. "You look wicked."

Aurelia looked like a totally different woman. She had used the Wonderwitch hair dye, which came out after one wash, and it had turned her hair a deep reddish-brown, and with some help from Verity they had magicked it full of curls and waves. After they had changed her hair, they had applied eyeliner and mascara, and Aurelia borrowed a cherry red lipstick from Verity's makeup box.

"I don't look like me," said Aurelia, unable to stop herself from grinning. "This is perfect."

"Nobody will recognise you. And we'll be in muggle London anyway, so it's great," said Verity, smiling as she threw a large fur coat at Aurelia. "Go on, put it on. It's so not you, which is what you're going for, right?"

Aurelia smiled as she donned the grey fur coat, over her plain white buttoned shirt, the black pencil skirt and solid-black tights she wore. Verity had also kindly lent her a pair of ankle boots, with a significant heel.

"God, I haven't worn heels for years," said Aurelia, wobbling as she wandered over to where Verity was waiting near her apartment door. "And even then, I was no good at wearing them."

"What sort of Malfoy are you anyway?" asked Verity jokingly.

"Good thing Draco's the heir, I'd bring the house to shame," Aurelia said, unable to stop herself from giggling. She couldn't help it – she found it so easy to joke when she was with Verity.

They wandered down from Verity's apartment to the street, which was teeming with people wandering around for late night shopping. Aurelia felt a little bit overwhelmed but then she saw her reflection in a shop window and she thought to herself, this isn't about you anymore. You're doing this for George.

"Come on, agent 99," said Verity cheerily.

"I don't get the reference," replied Aurelia.

Verity began to explain, but quickly gave up. "Never mind," she said. "Alright, so what did you have in mind for George's present?"

Aurelia sighed. "I – I'm not sure. I wanted it to be something really special. Something that he can use and think of me and make him happy, because he – well, he gets sad on his birthday, doesn't he?"

Verity grimaced as she replied. "Yeah. It's not pretty. The first year without Fred, he went to visit his grave – I have never seen him drink so much in one night. It was awful."

Aurelia wasn't sure how to respond, but luckily Verity kept on talking so she didn't have to. "But it'll be better this year," she said.

"Why's that?" Aurelia asked with a frown, confused.

Verity glanced sideways at her as they crossed an intersection, the traffic lights reflecting in her eyes. "Well, you're here this year," she said with a small smile. "You'll make a world of difference, even if you don't find the perfect gift."

And Aurelia felt a warm glow inside of her chest as she thought over what Verity had said. _A world of difference._ She realised that this might be her first real chance to return the favour to George – he had saved her from an awful, dark world, and now she could do the same for him.

And it was only a short while later that she found the perfect gift, in the window of a dusty second hand shop.

* * *

It was lucky they had found his gift so soon because Aurelia was in a rush to get herself back to normal. They rushed back to Verity's apartment as soon as the present had been purchased so Aurelia could scrub and wash the dye from her hair and get the makeup off her face, and even though Verity claimed to know a brilliant spell for getting rid of cosmetics, Aurelia said that she liked her face the way it was, eyelashes and all, thank you very much.

After showering faster than she'd ever showered before, she threw on her grey sweater over the shirt and put on her slightly longer and significantly less fitted black skirt and her ballet flats before she asked Verity to wrap the present so she could rush on over to the Burrow and hope that George wasn't there yet so she could hide the present in his room.

As soon as she rushed out of the bathroom, Aurelia found Verity waiting by the fireplace with floo powder and present in hand. Aurelia thanked her with a smile before grabbing a handful of green dust in one hand and the present in her other hand, remembering to throw the dust and not the present as she flooed to the Burrow.

She knew something still wasn't right with George as he sat down for dinner with his parents, and to Aurelia's surprise his brother Charlie. He was the only brother she hadn't met yet, and she was surprised by how much she liked him. He was in town to see George for his birthday, he said, to make sure that his little brother wasn't going to be a mopey bastard.

"I was going to take him out clubbing to get him some action, but looks like he doesn't need my help in that arena," Charlie muttered under his breath to Arthur while they were setting the table. It was only after Aurelia wandered past him to set the glasses that he realised she had overheard, and she couldn't help but smile at his alarmed expression.

"Don't worry, he's not usually this impolite," said Arthur.

"I am, I just try to keep it to a minimum around girls," said Charlie, still looking apologetic.

"Oh, she's been here for a while now, Charlie," said George as he wandered back from the living room where he had been sitting. "Ron, Bill and I have already desensitised her. And Ginny too, probably."

As dinner went along, Aurelia found that she quite liked Charlie. He seemed to bring a sort of calmness to the household, or perhaps that was because there were only four of them there. Aurelia wasn't sure, but she presumed that most of his energy was taken up by the dragons he worked with, and that he was older and more mature than his siblings. He also avoided having the 'do you have a girlfriend yet' talk with Molly quite well, probably due to experience.

She almost forgot about his birthday until they went back up to her room, which Charlie was pleased to hear was being put to good use.

"The hole in the wall wasn't me, that was Bill," was all he said about it.

Aurelia had hidden the present away in a drawer so George wouldn't see it straight away. She felt nervous all of a sudden as she asked, "Will you stay here tonight, George?"

George began to help her with applying the medicine to her scars, gently moving his hands across her textured skin. "I don't see why not," he replied simply. He didn't seem to be as chatty as he usually was and it made her feel sad. Nobody should be allowed to feel sad when they wake up on their birthday.

Aurelia smiled a little to herself as she thought of the next day and the present she had bought George. She knew she shouldn't get so excited, just in case it didn't go as planned – but she couldn't help it.

As he finished up, George kissed her on the forehead and said he'd be back in a moment before disapparating. While he was gone, Aurelia finished applying the medicine to her arms, legs and stomach as she usually did. By the time George reappeared, wearing his plain green pyjama pants and a white singlet, Aurelia was already in bed. He moved in to sleep behind her, cradling her in his arms and wrapping himself around her as they fell asleep, safe and warm.

Tomorrow was going to be very interesting.


	54. Chapter 54

****Yay, I am so very bad at updating! But it's here. Read and be merry.

* * *

**The Other Malfoy**

_Chapter Fifty Four_

Aurelia was the first to wake up, feeling herself stir as she morning wandered through the gap in the curtains. She could feel George lying beside her, his body warm against hers and his leg heavy as it lay over one of hers, his arm draped over her middle from where he had been holding her close when he had fallen asleep.

She was numb and forgetful for a few moments as she gathered her senses – and then she remembered what day it was. Her eyes opened fully as she became fully aware of everything around her – George's soft breaths against the back of her neck and the gentle rise and fall of his body, the slow beat of his heart which she could feel on her back, beating through his chest.

She slipped from under his leg and the arm draped over her middle as carefully as she could, trying not to stir him. But as she tiptoed the few steps across to the drawer, opening it gingerly, she heard him groan a little and then he said, voice a little gravely with sleep, "Aurelia? What's wrong?"

She turned, pulling the hair away from her eyes as she looked over at him. He hadn't moved much, head still on the pillow as his green eyes, almost emerald as a shard of light fell across his face.

He looked so handsome. A little unkempt, but mostly handsome.

Aurelia smiled gently. "Nothing's wrong," she said as she opened the drawer. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

She took out the present and moved back over to the bed, where George was now propped up on his arm. He was rubbing at his eyes, and he opened them again when she sat down on the edge of the bed. He saw the present, wrapped in orange and purple, and he glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "Aurelia, what –?"

"It's a present," she said, as though it wasn't already obvious. "It's your birthday and I got you a present."

"You know I don't like my birthday," he said. His voice wasn't angry, or upset, but he sounded very quiet. Too quiet.

"I know," she said quickly. "I know, George, but – this is different." She frowned, trying to think of the words to say.

"Aurelia, you don't have to," said George, sitting up properly.

"I do. It's just that I'm a Slytherin. We're not – _I'm _not – used to being tender and caring," she said, with a small smile. "But I want to care for you. I want you to be okay."

"I am okay."

"No, you're not," Aurelia said. She swallowed the lump of nervousness that had gathered in her throat. This wasn't going how she had planned but she could make it alright again. "I spent two of my birthdays trapped in a dark, dirty cell, wishing I was out so I could celebrate being alive. I know you miss Fred but you're here, and I wouldn't be here without you."

She bit her lip as she struggled to find the right words, and George didn't interrupt her as she spoke. She hadn't spoken more than a few sentences at a time, and now she was here making this huge speech. She felt nervous, but she knew she had to say what she was thinking.

"I want to celebrate you being here because you are the reason I am alive. I don't want you to forget about your brother. And I'm not – not trying to compete with him, because I won't win. I just want you to be happy, and he'd want that too. I didn't even know him but I know how much he meant to you, and I know how much you love him, but George, that doesn't mean you have to be so upset," she said, beginning to choke on her words. "You deserve to be happy, after all you've been through. After all you've done for me."

She finished speaking, and she waited for him to say something, to say anything. The few moments between Aurelia finishing and George speaking was so heavy and painful she thought she was going to scream. It was so tense.

And then he said, "I suppose I'd better open it, then."

After a small second of shock, Aurelia couldn't help but smile. He wasn't going to argue. He was going to open his present – no, his _birthday _present.

She had succeeded.

George had been so taken aback by her enormous speech that he had nearly forgotten about the present. But when he had nothing to say, nothing clever to respond with or arguments to retort, he realised she was right.

And there was nothing left to do but to open the present.

He glanced at her as he tugged at the ribbons, and he saw her eyes sparkle, not with tears but with excitement. George felt a smile tug at his own lips as she watched his long fingers pull gently at the paper until it fell away. He then opened the small cardboard box that lay within, and inside was his present.

He pulled it out, and he said, "It's a camera."

Aurelia nodded. "It's a muggle camera, but we can magic them to make them move." She glanced up at him and she said softly, "You should make new memories. You don't have to forget Fred, but you – you need to move on, or we'll lose you too."

He blinked, surprised at her words. That was almost exactly what Harry Potter had said to him back when he had begun searching for Aurelia. Perhaps, after all this time, he was finally coming to understand what he meant.

George smiled, before lifting a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're wonderful, do you know that?" He chuckled as she blushed, before he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to her forehead.

She took him by surprise when she reached up and pressed her lips to his, and whispered, "Happy birthday, George."

And he took her equally by surprise when he placed the camera on the floor, and tackled Aurelia to the bed beside him and hugged her to death.

"Thank you," he whispered into her ear as he held her close, and she sighed happily, breath washing over his neck as they lay together, almost without a worry in the world.

* * *

It was a good hour before George heard any movement downstairs or even decided that he needed to be awake. He knew Molly would prepare a huge breakfast for his birthday, because that's what she did. She'd make him scrambled eggs because that was his favourite. He used to draw smiley faces on it with the tomato sauce, back when he and Fred were little.

After another five or so minutes, George said they should probably go downstairs. He could smell the bacon and his stomach was beginning to rumble. Aurelia nodded tiredly and she said, "I think you're right."

They got out, George touching the roof as he stretched his body of any tension or tiredness, before they left the room and began to make their way downstairs.

Molly was very excited to see George and she smothered him with hugs and kisses, saying, "Happy birthday, dear!" as she directed them both towards the table, sitting them down with the predicted batch of scrambled eggs.

George piled eggs on his toast before picking up the tomato sauce, pausing before he drew a smiley face with the sauce. Aurelia glanced at him with raised eyebrows and he simply smiled, before digging in.

Charlie had only just arrived downstairs to get his breakfast, and he hadn't even said happy birthday when there was a knock at the door.

Molly frowned. "It's a bit early for visitors, isn't it?"

George stood up, going to the door. He knew it probably wasn't somebody coming to wish happy birthday, because they would have arrived by floo.

He opened the kitchen door, and he found himself staring at Adriana Scrimgeour.

And he said, rather callously but quietly enough so that his family didn't hear, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

She flinched, before she said, "Not coming to visit you, that's for sure. I'm here to speak to Aurelia."

"Can't you at least wait until she's out of her pyjamas?" George asked, with a deliberate glare. He didn't want Adriana in the same room as Aurelia. No, scratch that. He didn't want her there at all.

"Not really," said Adriana. "It's urgent."

At this stage, Molly and Arthur had come to the door and George knew he probably had to mind his manners from then on. "What's so urgent that it can't wait an hour?" he asked.

Adriana replied coolly, "The trial for the Death Eaters who kidnapped Aurelia wasn't due to happen in a month. However, due to the opinion of some Ministers and Aurors, it is of the greatest importance and cannot be delayed. The date has been moved."

George frowned, and he heard Molly mutter something under her breath behind him. "When is it?" he dared to ask.

Adriana took a small breath, and she said, "Three days. It's in three days."


End file.
